THE 
ECAME 

GL 


4r*"*     ^~A 

AO 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Commodore  Byron  McCandless 


The  Old  Corner  Book 
Store,  Inc. 
.      Mass. 


HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME 
OLD  GLORY 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO  -    DALLAS 

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TORONTO 


Red,  white  and  blue  —  it  tells  its  own  story  — 

But  Spring,  Who  made  it  and  named  it  Old  Glory  ?  — 

John  Trotwood  Moore. 


HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME 
OLD  GLORY 


BY 
EMMA  LOOK  SCOTT 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  A.  C.  VALENTINE 


Nefo  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1915 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1912, 
BY  EMMA  LOOK  SCOTT. 


COPYRIGHT,  1915, 
BT   THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  September,  1915. 


Xortnooti  Hress 

J.  S.  Cashing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

THE  author  acknowledges  her  indebtedness  to 
the  following  authors  and  publishers  for  their 
courtesy  in  allowing  the  use  of  copyright  mate- 
rial :  to  Mr.  Wallace  Rice  for  "  Wheeler's  Brigade 
at  Santiago  "  ;  to  Mr.  Charles  Francis  Adams  for 
"  Pine  and  Palm  "  ;  to  Mr.  Will  Allen  Dromgoole 
for  "  Soldiers  "  ;  to  Mr.  John  Howard  Jewitt  for 
a  selection  from  "  Rebel  Flags "  ;  to  Mr.  John 
Trotwood  Moore  for  "Old  Glory  at  Shiloh"  ;  to 
Mr.  Henry  Holcomb  Bennett  for  "  The  Flag  Goes 
By  "  ;  to  Mr.  Clinton  Scollard  for  "  On  the  Eve 
of  Bunker  Hill "  ;  to  P.  J.  Kenedy  and  Sons  for 
"The  Conquered  Banner"  by  Rev.  Abram  Joseph 
Ryan ;  to  David  MacKay  for  "  Death  of  Grant " 
by  Walt  Whitman  ;  to  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company 
for  "  The  Cruise  of  the  Monitor "  by  George  M. 
Boker ;  to  B.  F.  Johnson  Publishing  Company, 
publishers  of  Timrod's  Memorial  Volume,  for 


vi  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

"  Charleston  "  by  Henry  Timrod  ;  to  the  Century 
Company  for  "Farragut"  by  William  Tuckey 
Meredith ;  to  Mr.  Harry  L.  Flash  and  the  Neale 
Publishing  Company  for  "Stonewall  Jackson" 
by  Henry  Lynden  Flash ;  to  Mr.  Will  Henry 
Thompson  and  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons  for  "The 
High  Tide  at  Gettysburg " ;  to  Mr.  Isaac  R. 
Sherwood  and  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons  for  "Albert 
Sidney  Johnston  "  by  Kate  Brownlee  Sherwood ; 
to  Mrs.  Benjamin  Sledd  and  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 
for  "United"  by  Benjamin  Sledd.  An  extract 
from  "  Home  Folks  "  by  James  Whitcomb  Riley, 
copyright,  1900,  is  used  by  permission  of  the  pub- 
lishers, The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company.  The  poems, 
"Lexington"  by  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  "The 
Building  of  the  Ship "  and  "  The  Cumberland " 
by  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow,  "Yorktown" 
by  John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  "  Fredericksburg " 
by  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich,  "Kearny  at  Seven 
Pines"  by  E.  C.  Stedman,  and  "Robert  E.  Lee" 
by  Julia  Ward  Howe  are  printed  by  permission 
of  Houghton  Mifflin  Company. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

THE  FLAG  GOES  BY        .......  1 

OLD  GLORY 3 

IN  THE  LIGHT  OP  THE  OLD  NORTH  CHURCH  ...  19 

LEXINGTON 23 

ON  THE  EVE  OF  BUNKER  HILL 27 

THE  FLAG  OF  FORT  STANWIX 31 

THE  KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA 39 

WHERE  THE  STARS  AND  STRIPES  UNFURLED  ...  51 

THE  SURRENDER  OF  BURGOYNE 56 

THE  YOKE  OF  BRITAIN  BROKEN 57 

YORKTOWN 60 

FROM  THE  OTHER  SIDE 62 

THE  STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER         .        .        .  .66 

THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY  ....  68 

THE  CIVIL  WAR 77 

CHARLESTON 79 

FREDERICKSBURG 81 

CIVIL  WAR 82 

'ROUND  SHILOH  CHURCH 84 

ALBERT  SIDNEY  JOHNSTON  91 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

OLD  GLORY  AT  SHILOH ,96 

THE  FLAG  OF  THE  CUMBERLAND 100 

THE  CUMBERLAND 104 

THE  MONITOR 107 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  MONITOR 110 

THE  NIGHT  OF  CHANTILLY 114 

KEARNEY  AT  SEVEN  PINES 120 

THE  CAVALRY  CHARGE 122 

AN  IMMORTAL  TWAIN 125 

STONEWALL  JACKSON 132 

THE  HIGH  TIDE  AT  GETTYSBURG 133 

UNITED 138 

OLD  HEART  OF  OAK        . 140 

FARRAGUT 151 

PINE  AND  PALM 154 

THE  CONQUERED  BANNER 157 

THE  CONQUERED  BANNER 159 

DEATH  OF  GRANT 162 

ROBERT  E.  LEE 164 

OLD  GLORY  ON  THE  ISLAND 166 

WHEELER'S  BRIGADE  AT  SANTIAGO         .        .        .        .  170 

SOLDIERS  .  172 


HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME 
OLD  GLORY 


HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME 
OLD  GLORY 

THE   FLAG  GOES  BY 

HATS  off! 
Along  the  street  there  comes 
A  blare  of  bugles,  a  ruffle  of  drums, 
A  flash  of  color  beneath  the  sky ; 
Hats  off ! 
The  flag  is  passing  by ! 

Blue  and  crimson  and  white  it  shines, 

Over  the  steel-tipped  ordered  lines, 

Hats  off ! 

The  colors  before  us  fly ! 

But  more  than  the  flag  is  passing  by. 

Sea-fights  and  land-fights,  grim  and  great, 
Fought  to  make  and  to  save  the  State. 
Weary  marches  and  sinking  ships ; 
Cheers  of  victory  on  dying  lips. 


2  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

Days  of  plenty  and  years  of  peace  ; 
March  of  a  strong  land's  swift  increase ; 
Equal  justice,  right  and  law, 
Stately  honor  and  reverent  awe ; 

Sign  of  a  Nation,  great  and  strong 
To  ward  her  people  from  foreign  wrong : 
Pride  and  glory  and  honor  —  all 
Live  in  the  colors  to  stand  or  fall. 

Hats  off ! 

Along  the  street  there  comes 

A  blare  of  bugles,  a  ruffle  of  drums, 

And  loyal  hearts  are  beating  high : 

Hats  off! 

The  flag  is  passing  by ! 

HENRY  HOLCOMB  BENNETT. 


OLD   GLORY 

T"TTHILE  every  American  citizen  recognizes 
V  T  the  significance  of  the  term  "Old  Glory  "  as 
applied  to  the  national  flag,  when  and  where  and 
by  whom  the  nation's  emblem  was  christened  with 
this  endearing  and  enduring  sobriquet  is  a  matter 
of  historic  interest  less  understood. 

In  the  early  epoch-making  period  of  the  nation's 
history  William  Driver,  a  lad  of  twelve  years, 
native  of  Salem,  Mass.,  begged  of  his  mother 
permission  to  go  to  sea.  With  her  consent  he 
shipped  as  cabin  boy  on  the  sailing  vessel  China, 
bound  for  Leghorn,  a  voyage  of  eighteen  months. 

On  this  first  voyage  the  courageous  spirit  of 
the  youth  manifested  itself  in  a  determination 
to  disprove  the  words  of  the  ship's  owner,  made 
to  him  at  the  beginning  of  the  voyage:  "All 
boys  on  their  first  voyage  eat  more  than  they 
earn." 

In  appreciation  of  the  mettle  shown  by  the 

3 


4     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

lad,  the  owner  presented  him,  upon  the  return 
from  the  cruise,  with  twenty-eight  dollars  in 
silver,  besides  his  wages  of  five  dollars  per  month. 
He  carried  the  money  to  his  mother,  who  wisely 
admonished  him  to  do  the  very  best  he  could 
under  every  circumstance,  a  charge  he  never 
forgot. 

His  intrepid  spirit  brought  the  youthful  mari- 
ner rapid  and  deserved  promotion.  His  eight- 
eenth year  found  him  master  of  a  vessel.  Those 
were  hazardous  days  upon  the  sea,  and  more 
than  once  his  ship  was  subjected  to  indignity 
and  outrage  incident  to  seafaring  of  that  period. 
But  throughout  a  long  career  as  master  of  a 
merchantman  the  Stars  and  Stripes  was  never 
lowered  from  the  masthead  nor  sullied  by  defeat 
or  by  dishonor. 

The  sailor,  of  all  men,  venerates  his  nation's 
flag.  To  him  it  is  the  visible  and  tangible  token 
of  the  government  he  serves,  and  in  it  he  beholds 
all  the  government's  strength  and  virtue.  To 
William  Driver,  therefore,  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
typified  the  glory  of  the  land  and  of  the  sea. 
And  seeing  his  nation's  symbol  float  dauntless 


CAPTAIN  WILLIAM  DRIVER. 


6  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

and  triumphant  above  stress  of  every  encounter 
and  happening  upon  the  deep  enkindled  the 
inherent  love  in  his  heart  for  it  to  enthusiastic 
ardor,  and  in  thought  he  called  the  flag  "Old 
Glory." 

A  simple  incident,  but  fraught  with  unread 
meaning,  gave  the  name  into  the  nation's  keep, 
albeit  its  formal  christening  and  national  adoption 
was  not  to  come  until  the  soil  beneath  its  folds 
should  be  deep-dyed  with  the  blood  of  conflict 
between  the  land's  own  countrymen. 

In  1831,  as  master  of  the  brig  Charles  Daggett, 
about  to  set  sail  for  a  voyage  around  the  world 
from  Salem,  Mass.,  Captain  Driver  was  presented 
by  the  citizens  with  a  large  bunting  flag  in  com- 
mendation of  his  services  upon  the  sea  and  his 
well-known  love  for  his  country's  emblem.  This 
flag,  when  presented,  was  rolled  in  the  form  of  a 
triangle,  and  the  halyards  bent.  A  young  sailor, 
stepping  forward,  said:  "In  ancient  times,  when 
an  ocean  voyage  was  looked  upon  with  super- 
stitious dread,  it  was  the  custom  on  the  eve  of 
departure  to  roll  the  banner  in  form  of  a  triangle. 
When  ready  and  bent  like  this,  a  priest  stepped 


OLD  GLORY.'! 


Photo  of  Original  Flay. 


8  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

forward  and,  taking  the  banner  in  his  hand, 
sprinkled  it  with  consecrated  water  and  dedicated 
it  to  'God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God 
the  Holy  Ghost/  turning  the  point  of  the  triangle 
upward  at  the  name  of  each,  thus  calling  on  that 
sacred  unity  of  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier 
to  bless  the  national  emblem  and  prosper  the 
voyagers  and  their  friends.  The  flag  thus  con- 
secrated was  then  hoisted  to  the  masthead." 

With  glistening  eyes  the  captain  watched  the 
hoisting  of  the  flag';  and  as  it  fell  into  position  at 
the  masthead  of  his  ship  and  the  colors  unfurled 
to  the  breeze,  he  shouted :  "I'll  call  her  Old 
Glory,  boys,  Old  Glory!" 

Cheer  after  cheer  rent  the  air.  The  signals  of 
departure  were  sounded,  the  cables  were  cast 
off,  and  the  good  ship  set  sail  for  foreign  ports. 

This  was  the  ninth  and  most  memorable  voy- 
age made  by  Captain  Driver.  From  the  island 
of  Tahiti  he  rescued  the  suffering  descendants  of 
the  mutineers  of  the  English  ship  Bounty,  and  at 
risk  of  grave  considerations  turned  his  vessel 
from  her  outlined  course  and  returned  them  to 
their  beautiful  and  longed-for  home,  Pitcairn, 


OLD   GLORY  9 

in  the  waters  of  the  South  Pacific,  the  settle- 
ment of  an  island,  which  marks  one  of  the  memo- 
rable events  of  English  naval  history. 

Captain  Driver  made  his  last  voyage  around 
the  globe  in  command  of  the  Black  Warrior. 
At  the  masthead  flew  his  Salem  flag,  Old  Glory, 
to  which  he  never  referred  but  by  that  loving 
pseudonym. 

He  left  the  sea  in  1837  to  become  a  resident  of 
Nashville,  Tenn.  He  carried  Old  Glory  with 
him  as  a  sacred  relic,  carefully  deposited  in  a 
heavy,  brass-bound,  camphorwood  sea  chest  that 
had  accompanied  him  on  all  his  voyages.  On 
legal  holidays,  on  St.  Patrick's  day  (which  was 
his  own  birthday),  and  on  days  of  especial  cele- 
bration in  the  Southern  city  Old  Glory  was 
released  from  confinement  and  thrown  to  the 
light  from  some  window  of  the  Driver  residence 
or  hung  on  a  rope  across  the  street  in  a  triumphal 
arch  under  which  all  processions  passed. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  civil  strife  Captain 
Driver  avowed  his  Union  sympathies  and  stood 
openly  for  his  convictions  in  the  face  of  business 
losses,  arrest,  and  threatened  banishment. 


O 

-3 

O 

a 

j 
O 


OLD  GLORY  11 

Just  after  the  secession  of  the  State  he  daringly 
flaunted  his  Old  Glory  flag  from  his  window; 
then,  fearing  its  confiscation  (which  his  action 
had  rendered  liable),  he  procured  a  calico  quilt 
of  royal  purple  hue,  and  with  the  aid  of  two 
neighboring  women  sewed  it  up  between  the 
coverings  and  hid  the  quilt  in  his  old  sea  chest. 

Again  and  again  the  house  was  searched  by 
Confederate  soldiers  for  this  flag,  but  without 
success. 

Under  the  purple  Old  Glory  rested.  The 
flag  of  the  Confederacy  waved  above  the  Capitol ; 
and  Nashville,  in  pride,  prosperity,  and  splen- 
dor, basked  in  the  promise  of  ultimate  victory  to 
the  Southland. 

But  to  a  rude  awakening  this  fancied  security 
was  foredoomed.  Suddenly,  like  the  breaking 
of  a  terrific  thunderclap  above  the  city,  came 
the  awesome  cry:  "Fort  Donelson  has  fallen!" 

Fort  Donelson  fallen  meant  Nashville's  sub- 
jection. Terror-stricken,  the  people  rushed  wildly 
in  every  direction,  and  the  most  ill-founded 
reports  in  the  excitement  gained  ready  credence. 
It  was  announced  that  General  Buell  would 


12    HOW   THE  FLAG   BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

speedily  arrive  and  open  his  batteries  from  across 
the  river,  and  that  gunboats  would  lay  the  city 
in  ruins.  Some  of  the  citizens  urged  the  burning 
of  the  city,  that  no  spoils  might  be  left  to  the 
enemy. 

The  fine  suspension  bridge  across  the  Cumber- 
land was  fired.  The  commissaries  were  thrown 
open,  and  vast  quantities  of  public  stores,  amount- 
ing to  millions  of  dollars,  were  distributed  among 
the  inhabitants  or  destroyed.  The  archives  of 
the  State  were  hurriedly  conveyed  to  Memphis. 
In  the  mad  desire  to  escape  an  impending  doom 
of  whose  nature  they  were  wholly  ignorant, 
residents  vacated  their  houses  and  left  priceless 
furnishings  a  prey  to  the  invading  army.  On 
foot,  on  horseback,  by  wagon,  by  any  available 
means  that  best  favored  their  flight,  the  crowds 
surged  out  of  the  conquered  city. 

Notwithstanding  the  apprehensions  of  speedy 
hostilities,  it  was  a  week  later  before  General 
Buell  was  encamped  in  Edgefield,  opposite  the 
city.  To  him  the  mayor  formally  surrendered 
Nashville.  A  proclamation  was  issued  assuring  the 
inhabitants  of  protection  in  person  and  property. 


OLD   GLORY  13 

Up  the  Cumberland  steamed  fifteen  transports 
and  one  gunboat  —  General  Nelson's  wing  of 
the  Union  army.  From  the  levee  came  the  clamor 
and  shouts  of  men,  the  rattle  of  musketry,  and 
din  of  many  feet.  The  Sixth  Ohio  was  the  first 
regiment  to  land.  Captain  Driver  was  an  inter- 
ested observer  of  the  scene.  "Now,"  said  he, 
"hath  the  hour  of  Old  Glory  come!" 

Lieutenant  Thacher,  of  the  Sixth,  with  a  squad 
of  soldiers,  left  the  regiment  and  escorted  Captain 
Driver  to  his  home,  a  few  blocks  distant.  They 
wrested  Old  Glory  from  its  hiding  place  and,  with 
the  old  mariner  bearing  the  flag  in  his  arms, 
quickly  rejoined  the  regiment. 

Up  the  hill,  amidst  rattle  of  drum  and  sound- 
ing trumpets,  passed  the  bluecoats  to  the  Capitol. 
There  a  small  regimental  flag  was  being  hoisted. 
Suddenly  a  hush  fell  upon  the  waiting  victors. 
The  figure  of  Captain  Driver  appeared  high 
against  the  dome  of  the  Statehouse.  The  strains 
of  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner"  burst  upon  the 
ear;  and  amid  cheers  and  cries  of  "Old  Glory! 
Old  Glory  !"  that  echoed  to  the  distant  hills  the 
old  sea  flag  unfurled  and  floated  above  the  top- 


OLD  GLORY  15 

most  pinnacle  of  the  Capitol  of  Tennessee. 
And  thus  Old  Glory  received  her  formal  christen- 
ing. 

Swarming  over  the  city,  bent  on  various  quests, 
went  the  victorious  Federals.  Not  so  the  old 
sailor.  The  revered  flag,  flaunting  the  colors  so 
joyously  above  his  head  once  more,  was  far  too 
weather-beaten,  he  feared,  to  withstand  long  the 
stiff  breeze  blowing  about  the  elevated  site.  Torn 
to  ribbons  it  must  not  be,  howsoever  good  the 
cause. 

Quietly  he  watched  and  waited  about  the 
grounds  until  after  nightfall,  when,  under  cover 
of  the  darkness,  he  again  ascended  the  dome, 
rescued  his  beloved  old  flag,  and  swung  in  its 
place  a  big  merino  one  that  had  figured  as  a 
campaign  flag  in  1840,  when  "Tippecanoe  and 
Tyler  too"  was  the  slogan  of  the  Whig  Party. 
He  then  carried  Old  Glory  to  his  home  and  laid 
it  tenderly  away  in  the  old  sea  locker  so  long 
dedicated  to  its  use. 

Very  gradually  thereafter  the  pleasing  appella- 
tion, Old  Glory,  made  its  impress  upon  the  speech 
of  the  populace,  until,  in  the  later  nineties,  the 


16  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

"Hoosier   Poet"   was   moved   to   expression   in 
verse : 

Old  Glory,  the  story  we're  wanting  to  hear, 

Is  what  the  plain  facts  of  your  christening  were, 

For  your  name,  just  to  hear  it, 

Repeat  it  and  cheer  it,  s'tang  to  the  spirit 

As  salt  as  a  tear. 

And  seeing  you  fly  and  the  boys  marching  by, 

There's  a  shout  in  the  throat  and  a  blur  in  the  eye 

And  an  aching  to  live  for  you  always  or  die ; 

And  so,  by  our  love  for  you  floating  above, 

And  the  scars  of  all  wars  and  the  sorrows  thereof, 

Who  gave  you  the  name  of  Old  Glory  ? 

JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY. 

But  to  the  query  the  sealed  lips  of  the  old 
seaman  answered  not.  For  him  had  come  the 
higher  summons. 

Captain  Driver's  death  occurred  in  Nashville 
in  1886.  At  the  head  of  his  grave,  in  the  old 
City  Cemetery,  stands  a  unique  monument  of  his 
own  designing.  Upon  an  old  tree  trunk,  in  stone, 
appears  a  ship's  anchor  and  cable.  At  the  top 
of  the  anchor  is  inscribed  the  beloved  pseudonym 
of  his  heart's  own  coinage,  above  him  here,  even 


OLD   GLORY  17 

in  his  last  sleep :  "  His  ship,  his  country,  and  his 
flag  —  Old  Glory."  About  his  body  when  placed 
within  the  casket  was  wrapped  a  United  States 
flag. 

A  few  years  prior  to  his  death  Captain  Driver 
placed  his  Old  Glory  flag  in  the  hands  of  his  elder 
daughter,  Mrs.  Roland,  of  Wells,  Nev.,  who  was 
then  on  a  visit  to  him,  saying  brokenly  as  he 
resigned  it:  "Take  this  flag  and  cherish  it  as  I 
have  done.  I  love  it  as  a  mother  loves  her  child. 
It  has  been  with  me,  and  it  has  protected  me  in 
all  parts  of  the  world." 

Worn  and  faded  and  tattered,  this  flag  is  still 
in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Roland ;  and  in  her  far 
Western  home  it  is  displayed  on  patriotic  occasions 
and  the  story  of  its  naming  repeated.  Another, 
presumably  the  Whig  flag  herein  mentioned,  and 
that,  as  has  been  shown,  also  flew  over  the  Capi- 
tol of  Tennessee,  was  sent  by  Captain  Driver, 
upon  request,  to  the  Essex  Institute,  of  Massa- 
chusetts. Some  confusion  has  of  late  arisen  in 
the  public  mind  regarding  the  identity  of  the  two 
flags,  it  having  been  generally  believed  that  the 
original  Old  Glory  was  the  flag  in  the  Massachusetts 


18  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

Institute.  This  impression  is,  however,  doubt- 
less erroneous. 

Notwithstanding  a  somewhat  brusque  address 
and  a  marked  individuality  of  speech  and  action, 
Captain  Driver  was  a  man  of  warm  and  kindly 
nature.  Although  a  stanch  Unionist,  he  lent  a 
ready  and  willing  hand  to  the  suffering  ones  of 
the  South.  He  married  the  first  time  Miss 
Martha  Babbage,  of  Salem,  Mass.  For  his 
second  wife  he  espoused  a  Southern  woman, 
Sarah  J.  Parks,  of  Nashville,  Tenn.  Two  of 
his  sons  bore  arms  in  the  Confederate  service. 
One  of  these  gave  his  life  for  the  "lost  cause." 

It  remained  for  yet  another  conflict  after  the 
civil  strife  to  bring  the  name  Old  Glory  into 
general  and  popular  use,  FOR  THE  BLENDED  RANKS 

OF  THE  BLUE  AND  THE  GRAY  OPPOSED  A  COMMON 

FOE.  When  the  North  and  the  South  joined  hands 
against  a  foreign  power  and  floated  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  above  the  emblem  of  Spain  upon  the 
island  of  Cuba,  the  flag  of  the  Union  became  Old 
Glory  to  every  man  of  the  nation. 


IN  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  OLD  NORTH 
CHURCH 

"History  points  no  struggle  for  liberty  which  has  in  it  more 
of  the  moral  sublime  than  that  of  the  American  Revolution." 


T^HEY  were  a  godly  people,  these  revolution- 
ary fathers  of  ours.  They  prayed  as  they 
thought;  and  they  fought  as  they  believed  and 
prayed.  They  sought  no  quarrel  with  the  mother 
country;  they  asked  only  independent  action, 
considering  themselves  full  grown  in  point  of 
knowledge  of  their  needs  and  desires,  although 
but  infants  in  age  as  compared  with  other  sub- 
jects of  Great  Britain. 

When,  therefore,  Old  England  announced,  "You 
shall  pay  taxes  !"  the  colonists  demurred. 

"We  are  not  represented  in  your  Parliament; 
we  have  no  voice  in  your  councils  !" 

"But  you  must  pay  taxes,"  she  commanded. 

They  replied,  "We  will  not." 

"  I  will  compel  you,"  retorted  she. 

19 


20    HOW  THE   FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 


THE  OLD  NORTH  CHURCH. 


"If  you  can,"  was 
the  answer. 

A  British  fleet  then 
sailed  into  Boston 
harbor,  and  British 
soldiers  swarmed  over 
Boston  town.  This' 
action  enraged  the 
citizens.  It  angered 
the"SonsofLiberty," 
whose  name  is  self- 
explanatory  and 
whose  slogan  was 
"Liberty  or  Death/' 
and  inspired  them  to 
more  vigorous  efforts 
toward  freedom  from 
Britain's  power.  The 
"Minute  Men"  were 
organized  and  stood 
ready  to  the  sum- 
mons, ready  at  a  min- 
ute's notice  to  leave 
forest,  field,  or  fire- 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  OLD  NORTH  CHURCH  21 

side,  to  take  up  arms  in  defense  of  their  liberties 
and  their  rights. 

The  spirit  of  dissension  ran  rife;  and  petty 
altercations  between  the  British  soldiers  and  the 
citizens  were  of  daily  occurrence.  A  trivial  hap- 
pening brought  about  the  Boston  Massacre. 
A  "Son  of  Liberty"  and  a  British  soldier  dis- 
puted the  right  of  way  of  a  street  passage. 

"Stand  aside,"  said  the  one. 

"Give  way,"  said  the  other. 

Neither  would  yield.  Blows  followed.  Rocks 
flew.  The  soldiers  marshaled  and  fired  into  the 
crowd.  Several  citizens  were  killed.  The  town 
was  ablaze  with  excitement.  And  the  governor 
had  finally  to  withdraw  the  troops  from  Boston. 

When  antagonism  had  abated  in  degree,  King 
George  devised  new  measures  of  taxation  and 
stirred  ill  feeling  again.  Boston  brewed  British 
tea  in  the  ocean.  England  disliked  the  taste  of 
it.  The  people  were  declared  Rebels;  and  the 
charter  of  Massachusetts  was  annulled  by  Parlia- 
ment. Ten  thousand  British  soldiers  then  came 
over.  Boston  Neck  was  seized  and  fortified. 
The  colonists  were  to  be  forced  into  obedience. 


22    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

Then  from  Lexington  and  Concord  the  signals 
of  revolt  were  sounded  — 

"They  were  building  well  for  a  race  unborn, 
As  the  British  plowed  through  the  waving  corn, 
For  the  birth-pang  of  Freedom  rang  that  morn." 

The  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill  that  followed  was 
but  the  natural  sequence.  Defeated  though  the 
patriots  were  in  this  their  first  real  battle,  it  was 
a  defeat  that  spelled  for  them  ultimate  victory. 
This  they  recognized  dimly,  but  certainly,  as 
they  knew  that  they  had  gone  into  battle  with  a 
prayer  on  their  lips  for  themselves,  for  their 
homes,  and  their  country.  Their  hearts  were 
fired  anew  for  freedom.  Their  arms  would  be 
strengthened  to  their  desires.  As  the  lights  from 
the  belfry  of  Old  North  Church  revealed  to  Paul 
Revere  the  route  the  British  were  to  take  against 
them  in  the  memorable  beginnings  at  Lexington 
and  Concord,  so  the  light  from  the  Great  Book 
above  its  chancel  rail  would  direct  them  the  way 
they  should  go. 


LEXINGTON 

With  one  impulse  the  colonies  sprung  to  arms;  with  one 
spirit  they  pledged  themselves  to  each  other,  "to  be  ready  for 
the  extreme  event."  With  one  heart  the  continent  cried, 
"Liberty  or  Death!"  BANCROFT. 

SLOWLY  the  mist  o'er  the  meadow  was  creeping, 
Bright  on  the  dewy  buds  glistened  the  sun, 
When  from  his  couch  while  his  children  were  sleeping, 
Rose  the  bold  rebel,  and  shouldered  his  gun. 
Waving  her  golden  veil 
Over  the  silent  dale, 

Blithe  looked  the  morning  on  cottage  and  spire ; 
Hushed  was  his  parting  sigh, 
While  from  his  noble  eye, 
Flashed  the  last  sparkle  of  liberty's  fire. 

On  the  smooth  green,  where  the  fresh  leaf  is  springing, 

Calmly  the  first-born  of  glory  have  met, 

Hark !  the  death-volley  around  them  is  ringing ! 

Look !  with  their  lif eblood  the  young  grass  is  wet ! 

Faint  is  the  feeble  breath, 

Murmuring  low  in  death,  - 

"Tell  to  our  sons  how  their  fathers  have  died ;" 

23 


LEXINGTON  25 

Nerveless  the  iron  hand, 

Raised  for  its  native  land, 

Lies  by  the  weapon  that  gleams  at  its  side. 

Over  the  hillsides  the  wild  knell  is  tolling, 

From  their  far  hamlets  the  yeomanry  come ; 

As  through  the  storm-clouds  the  thunderburst  rolling 

Circles  the  beat  of  the  mustering  drum. 

Fast  on  the  soldier's  path 

Darken  the  waves  of  wrath, 

Long  have  they  gathered  and  loud  shall  they  fall ; 

Red  glares  the  muskets'  flash, 

Sharp  rings  the  rifles'  crash 

Blazing  and  clanging  from  thicket  and  wall. 

Gayly  the  plume  of  the  horseman  was  dancing, 

Never  to  shadow  his  cold  brow  again ; 

Proudly  at  morning  the  war  steed  was  prancing, 

Reeking  and  panting  he  droops  on  the  rein ; 

Pale  is  the  lip  of  scorn, 

Voiceless  the  trumpet  horn, 

Torn  is  the  silken-fringed  red  cross  on  high ; 

Many  a  belted  breast 

Low  on  the  turf  shall  rest, 

Ere  the  dark  hunters  the  herd  have  passed  by. 

Snow-girdled  crags  where  the  hoarse  wind  is  raving, 
Rocks  where  the  weary  floods  murmur  and  wail, 
Wilds  where  the  fern  by  the  furrow  is  waving, 


26    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

Reeled  with  the  echoes  that  rode  on  the  gale ; 

Far  as  the  tempest  thrills 

Over  the  darkened  hills 

Far  as  the  sunshine  streams  over  the  plain, 

Roused  by  the  tyrant  band, 

Woke  all  the  mighty  land, 

Girded  for  battle,  from  mountain  to  main. 

Green  be  the  graves  where  her  martyrs  are  lying ! 

Shroudless  and  tombless  they  sank  to  their  rest, 

While  o'er  their  ashes  the  starry  fold  flying 

Wraps  the  proud  eagle  they  roused  from  his  nest ! 

Borne  on  her  Northern  pine, 

Long  o'er  the  foaming  brine, 

Spread  her  broad  banner  to  storm  and  to  sun ; 

Heaven  keep  her  ever  free, 

Wide  as  o'er  land  and  sea, 

Floats  the  fair  emblem  her  heroes  have  won ! 

0.  W.  HOLMES. 


ON  THE  EVE  OF  BUNKER  HILL 

The  consequences  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  were  greater 
than  those  of  any  ordinary  conflict.  It  was  the  first  great 
battle  of  the  Revolution,  and  not  only  the  first  blow,  but  the 
blow  which  determined  the  contest.  When  the  sun  of  that 
day  went  down,  the  event  of  independence  was  no  longer 

doubtful. 

WEBSTER. 
June  16,  1775 

TWAS  June  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  June  with 
the  rose's  breath, 
When  life  is  a  gladsome  thing,  and  a  distant  dream 

is  death ; 
There  was  gossip  of  birds  in  the  air,  and  the  lowing  of 

herds  by  the  wood, 
And  a  sunset  gleam  in  the  sky  that  the  heart  of  a 

man  holds  good ; 
Then  the  nun-like  Twilight  came,  violet  vestured  and 

still, 
And  the  night's  first  star  outshone  afar  on  the  eve  of 

Bunker  Hill : 

There  rang  a  cry  through  the  camp,  with  its  word 

upon  rousing  word ; 
There  was  never  a  faltering  foot  in  the  ranks  of  those 

that  heard. 

27 


ON  THE   EVE  OF  BUNKER  HILL         29 

Lads  from  the  Hampshire  hills  and  the  rich  Connect- 
icut vales, 

Sons  of  the  old  Bay  Colony,  from  its  shores  and  its 
inland  dales ; 

Swiftly  they  fell  in  line ;  no  fear  could  their  valor  chill ; 

Ah,  brave  the  show  as  they  ranged  a-row  on  the  eve 
of  Bunker  Hill. 

Then  a  deep  voice  lifted  a  prayer  to  God  of  the  brave 

and  the  true 
And  the  heads  of  the  men  were  bare  in  the  gathering 

dusk  and  dew ; 
The  heads  of  a  thousand  men  were  bowed  as  the 

pleading  rose,  - 
Smite  Thou,  Lord,  as  of  old  Thou  smotest  Thy 

people's  foes ! 
Oh,  nerve  Thy  Servants'  arms  to  work  with  a  mighty 

will! 
A  hush,  and  then  a  loud  Amen !  on  the  eve  of  Bunker 

Hill! 

Now  they  are  gone  through  the  night  with  never  a 
thought  of  fame, 

Gone  to  the  field  of  a  fight  that  shall  win  them  death- 
less name ; 

Some  shall  never  again  behold  the  set  of  the  sun, 

But  lie  like  the  Concord  slain,  and  the  slain  of  Lexing- 
ton, 


30  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

Martyrs  to   Freedom's  cause.    Ah,   how  at  their 

deeds  we  thrill, 
The  men  whose  might  made  strong  the  height  on  the 

eve  of  Bunker  Hill. 

CLINTON  SCOLLARD. 


THE  FLAG  OF  FORT  STANWIX 

TRITE  but  true  is  the  old  adage  that  necessity 
is  the  mother  of  invention.  The  first  flag 
that  flew  over  an  American  fort  was  constructed 
from  an  "ammunition  shirt,  a  blue  jacket  captured 
from  the  British,  and  a  woman's  red  petticoat." 
The  garrison  at  Fort  Stanwix  (Fort  Schuyler) 
had  no  flag;  but  it  had  possession  of  the  fort 
despite  the  siege  of  twenty  days  against  it  by 
the  British;  and  it  had  five  British  standards 
taken  from  the  enemy.  So  it  improvised  a  flag 
and,  with  cheers  and  yells  befitting  the  occasion, 
ran  the  British  standards  upside  down  upon  the 
flag  mast  and  swung  the  Stars  and  Stripes  above 
them.  The  redcoats  looked,  and,  it  is  safe  to 
assert,  laughed  not,  as  to  them  the  humor  of  the 
situation  was  not  appealing.  But  if  they  were 
lacking  in  the  sense  of  humor,  these  sons  of  Old 

31 


32  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

England  were  not  lacking  in  persistence,  and  they 
besieged  the  fort  with  steady  determination. 

Fort  Stanwix  stood  at  the  head  of  navigation 
of  the  Mohawk  River  and  was  an  important  fea- 
ture in  the  plan  of  General  Burgoyne  to  cut  off 
New  England  from  the  southern  colonies  and  thus 
control  the  whole  country.  Embarking  upon  this 
expedition,  he  had  instructed  his  army:  "The 
services  required  are  critical  and  conspicuous. 
Difficulty,  nor  labor,  nor  life  are  to  be  regarded. 
The  army  must  not  retreat."  As  he  advanced 
down  the  Hudson  he  swept  everything  before 
him.  Ticonderoga,  Mount  Defiance,  Whitehall, 
Fort  Edward,  each  in  turn  fell :  and  he  now 
anticipated  no  successful  resistance  to  his  forces. 

At  the  beginning  of  General  Burgoyne's  inva- 
sion a  force  of  Canadians,  Hessians,  New  York 
Tories,  and  Indians  commanded  by  General  St. 
Leger  had  been  sent  against  Fort  Stanwix.  The 
post  was  held  by  General  Gansevoort  with  some 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  men.  They  were  ill  sup- 
plied with  ammunition  and  had  few  provisions. 
To  Burgoyne  defeat  seemed  here  impossible.  The 
siege  had,  however,  been  anticipated  by  the 


THE  FLAG   OF  FORT  STANWIX          33 

garrison,  and  the  men  had  determined  to  hold 
out  to  the  last  extremity. 

Word  was  surreptitiously  conveyed  to  Colonel 
Willett  within  the  fort  that  General  Herkimer 
would  set  out  with  eight  hundred  volunteers  to 
reenforce  him  and  that  a  successful  sortie  might 
be  made  against  the  besiegers  by  acting  in  con- 
junction with  General  Herkimer's  forces.  This 
sortie  was  to  be  made  when  a  certain  signal  was 
given.  But  the  best-laid  plans,  as  we  all  have 
doubtless  learned  by  experience,  are  not  always 
dependable. 

St.  Leger  in  this  case  learned  of  Herkimer's 
advance  and  sent  the  savages  under  his  command 
to  intercept  and  ambuscade  him.  A  terrible 
hand-to-hand  combat  ensued  in  which  a  hundred 
and  sixty  of  the  colonists  were  killed  and  the  loss 
to  the  Indians  was  as  great.  General  Herkimer's 
horse  was  shot  under  him  and  he  himself  wounded 
severely  in  the  leg.  Notwithstanding  his  agony 
he  insisted  upon  being  placed  with  his  back  against 
a  tree  for  support,  and  therefrom  he  continued 
to  direct  the  battle.  In  the  heat  of  the  contest 
he  lighted  his  pipe  and  smoked. 


34    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

The  further  advance  of  the  Americans  to  the 
succor  of  the  fort  was  prevented,  but  Colonel 
Willett,  in  ignorance  of  this,  made  his  sally  from 
the  fort  at  the  hour  appointed.  Marvelous  to 
state,  the  British  were  taken  wholly  by  surprise 
and,  having  no  time  to  form,  fled.  The  Americans 
took  possession  of  their  supplies  and  their  stand- 
ards, as  before  mentioned,  and  retired  to  the  fort. 

Failing  to  shell  or  starve  them  out,  St.  Leger 
then  began  efforts  to  induce  a  surrender.  Two 
of  his  American  prisoners  were  compelled  to 
write  letters  to  the  commandant  at  the  fort, 
exaggerating  the  strength  of  the  enemy  and 
urging,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  a  surrender. 
To  this  Gansevoort  returned  no  answer.  St. 
Leger  then  tried  another  plan. 

A  white  flag  appeared  before  the  garrison. 
Two  British  officers  were  blindfolded  and  ad- 
mitted to  the  fort.  They  were  courteously 
received  and,  when  they  were  seated,  were  prof- 
fered refreshments.  One  of  the  officers  then 
presented  the  message  of  General  St.  Leger,  which 
was  in  substance  a  threat,  couched  in  polite  lan- 
guage, that  if  the  fort  was  not  surrendered,  the 


THE   FLAG   OF  FORT  STANWIX          35 

Indians  would  be  turned  loose  upon  the  country, 
and  not  only  the  men  but  all  the  women  and 
children  would  be  tomahawked.  Not  one  should 
escape.  But  if  the  garrison  would  capitulate, 
not  only  would  these  evils  be  averted,  but  none 
of  the  garrison  should  be  injured  or  made  prisoners. 

Colonel  Willett  arose.  "  I  consider,  Sir, "  said  he, 
"the  message  you  bring  a  degrading  one  for  a 
British  officer  to  send  and  by  no  means  reputable 
for  a  British  officer  to  carry.  I  would  suffer 
my  body  to  be  filled  with  splinters  and  set  on 
fire,  and  such  outrages  are  not  uncommon  in 
your  army,  before  I  would  deliver  this  garrison 
to  your  mercy.  After  you  get  out  of  it,  never 
expect  to  enter  it  again  unless  you  come  as  a 
prisoner." 

Provisions  were  running  low,  and  some  un- 
easiness became  manifest  in  the  fort.  Colonel 
Willett,  observing  this,  assured  the  men,  "  I  will 
make  a  sally  in  the  night,  if  compelled  by  lack 
of  supplies,  and  cut  our  way  through  the  besiegers 
or  die  in  the  attempt."  The  siege  had  now  con- 
tinued more  than  twenty  days,  when  to  the  sur- 
prise of  the  garrison  it  was  suddenly  raised. 


36    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

This  was  due,  it  shortly  appeared,  to  a  ruse  of 
General  Arnold ;  Arnold  the  valiant,  Arnold  the 
traitor. 

Among  the  prisoners  of  Arnold  was  a  young 
half-witted  fellow  who  was  condemned  to  death. 
His  sorrowing  mother  never  ceased  her  pleading 
with  General  Arnold  for  her  son's  life.  Accordingly 
one  day  he  proposed  to  her  this  expedient :  That 
her  son,  Hon  Yost  by  name,  should  make  his 
way  to  Fort  Stanwix  and  in  some  way  so  alarm 
the  British  that  they  would  raise  the  siege.  Ea- 
gerly the  old  mother  promised  this  should  be  done 
and  offered  herself  as  hostage  for  the  fulfillment 
of  the  mission.  To  this  Arnold  would  not  con- 
sent, but  retained  another  son  in  her  place. 

Before  starting  on  his  errand,  Hon  Yost's 
clothing  was  riddled  with  bullets  to  indicate 
escape  from  the  Americans.  Reaching  the  camp 
of  the  Indians,  he  told  in  a  mysterious  way  of  a 
premeditated  attack  upon  them  and  aroused 
their  fears.  St.  Leger  heard  of  his  arrival  and 
questioned  him.  To  St.  Leger  he  related  a 
touching  story  of  his  capture  and  miraculous 
escape  from  execution,  and  by  signs,  words,  and 


WHEN  HE   WAS   ASKED   THE    NUMBER    OP  THE  AMERICANS 

ABOUT    TO    DESCEND    UPON   THEM,    HON   YOST   POINTED   TO 
THE   LEAVES   OF   THE   TREES  TO   INDICATE   A   LEGION. 


38    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

gestures  made  it  appear  that  he  was  an  emissary 
of  Providence  to  aid  in  their  preservation.  Cana- 
dians, Hessians,  all  became  uneasy.  When  he 
was  asked  the  number  of  the  Americans  about 
to  descend  upon  them,  Hon  Yost  pointed  to  the 
leaves  of  the  trees  to  indicate  a  legion.  In  his 
efforts  to  terrorize  he  was  ably  seconded  by  a 
young  Indian  who  had  accompanied  him.  Panic 
seized  the  camps.  In  vain  St.  Leger  strove  to 
allay  the  frenzy.  The  result  was  precipitate 
flight. 

It  is  given  by  one  authority  that  St.  Leger  was 
himself  becoming  as  apprehensive  of  his  red-faced 
allies  as  he  was  of  the  enemy  he  was  fighting. 

The  fears  he  had  sought  to  instill  in  the  minds 
of  the  garrison  were  now  returned  upon  his  own 
head. 


THE   KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA 
(OUR  FIRST  EUROPEAN  SALUTE) 

INSEPARABLY  connected  with  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  must  ever  be  the  name  of  John 
Paul  Jones. 

The  "Untitled  Knight  of  the  Sea,"  the  Duchess 
de  Chartres  —  mother  of  Louis  Philippe,  after- 
ward King  of  France;  and  granddaughter  of  a 
high  admiral  of  France  —  was  fond  of  calling 
him.  For  albeit  John  Paul  Jones  was  of  Scotch 
peasant  ancestry,  his  associates  were  people  of 
the  highest  intellect  and  rank.  In  appearance 
he  was  handsome;  in  manner  prepossessing; 
and  in  speech  he  was  a  linguist,  having  at  easy 
command  the  English,  French,  and  Spanish  lan- 
guages. His  surname  was  Paul.  The  name 
Jones  was  inherited  with  a  fine  plantation  in 
America. 

The  call  of  the  sea  was  strong  to  the  lad  and 
of  its  dangers  he  had  no  fear.  An  old  seaman 

39 


40    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

one  day  watched  him  handle  a  fishing  yawl  in  a 
heavy  storm  and  thought  he  could  never  weather 
the  squall.  "That  is  my  son,  John,"  said  his 
father  calmly.  "He  will  fetch  her  in  all  right. 
It  is  not  much  of  a  squall  for  him."  The  man 
complimented  the  boy  and  offered  him  a  berth 
on  his  ship  then  bound  for  America,  little  dreaming 
that  in  so  doing  he  would-  carry  to  the  New  World 
the  Father  of  the  American  Navy. 

Studious  and  ambitious,  the  boy  devoted  his 
leisure  moments  to  acquiring  the  most  intricate 
knowledge  of  his  profession  and  soon  held  posi- 
tions of  command.  When  the  news  of  the  battle 
of  Lexington  reached  him,  he  offered  his  services 
to  Congress.  He  was  made  First  Lieutenant  of 
the  Alfred,  and  over  this  ship  hoisted  the  first  emblem 
shown  on  an  American  naval  vessel.  The  design 
of  this  flag  was  a  pine  tree  with  a  rattlesnake 
coiled  at  the  roots  and  the  motto,  "Don't  tread 
on  me/'  on  a  background  of  yellow  silk. 

June  14th,  1777,  was  made  notable  in  American 
annals  by  the  resolution  passed  by  Congress  for 
a  new  flag.  Embodied  in  the  resolution  the  name 
of  John  Paul  Jones  appears  thus :  — 


THE  KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA  41 

"Resolved  — That  the  flag  of  the  Thirteen 
United  States  of  America  be  Thirteen  Stripes, 
alternate  Red  and  White;  that  the  Union  be 
Thirteen  Stars  on  a  Blue  Field ;  Representing  a 
New  Constellation: 

"Resolved  —  That  Captain  John  Paul  Jones 
be  appointed  to  command  the  ship  Ranger." 

Paul  Jones'  remarks  upon  the  resolutions  were 
significant:  "The  flag  and  I  are  twins;  born  the 
same  hour  from  the  same  womb  of  destiny.  We 
cannot  be  parted  in  life  or  in  death.  So  long  as 
we  can  float  we  shall  float  together.  If  we  must 
sink,  we  shall  go  down  as  one." 

Before  the  Ranger  was  launched,  Jones  was 
informed  that  he  was  to  be  the  bearer  of  most 
important  news  to  France.  This  news  was  the 
daily  expected  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  the  sur- 
render that  was  so  powerfully  to  affect  the  result 
of  the  war  for  independence.  As  to  his  fitness 
for  conveying  such  a  message,  Lafayette  attested 
thus:  "To  captivate  the  French  fancy,  Cap- 
tain Jones  possesses,  far  beyond  any  other  officer 
in  your  service,  that  peculiar  aplomb,  grace  of 
manner,  charm  of  person,  and  dash  of  char- 


42  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

acter,"  a  compliment  better  understood  when 
it  is  remembered  that  an  alliance  with  France 
against  Great  Britain  was  then  sought  by  Con- 
gress. 

The  Ranger  lay  in  the  harbor  of  Portsmouth, 
New  Hampshire,  ready  for  sailing,  and  Jones 
with  his  own  hands  raised  the  flag  to  the  mast- 
head, the  first  American  flag  to  fly  over  a  man-of- 
war.  Jones  had  already  brought  credit  to  the 
American  navy  by  the  capture  of  prizes  in  Ameri- 
can waters;  now  he  was  to  serve  his  country's 
interests  off  the  coast  of  England. 

The  tang  of  autumn  was  in  the  air  when  he  set 
sail  for  France.  Fulfilling  his  mission  at  Nantes, 
Jones  set  out  for  Brest,  where  the  fleet  of  France 
was  anchored.  Would  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  the 
symbol  of  the  New  Republic  across  the  sea,  be 
recognized  by  salute  ?  The  question  was  in  every 
mind  aboard  ships,  and  the  answer  eagerly  awaited 
in  the  United  States.  A  note  couched  in  the 
diplomatic  and  elegant  terms  of  which  Paul  Jones 
was  master,  was  sent  by  him  to  the  admiral  of 
the  French  fleet,  inquiring  whether  or  not  the 
flag  would  receive  recognition.  "It  will,"  came 


THE  KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA  43 

back  the  answer.  With  that  the  Ranger  glided 
gracefully  through  the  fleet  of  ships ;  and  Old  Glory, 
in  all  the  radiance  of  her  new  birth  and  coloring, 
waved  response  from  the  masthead  to  her  first 
salute  from  European  powers.  We,  even  after 
the  long  lapse  of  intervening  years,  feel  still  the 
thrill  of  her  exultation. 

Two  months  later  the  alliance  between  America 
and  France  was  signed.  The  Duchess  de  Chartres 
became  greatly  interested  in  the  young  naval 
officer;  and,  having  it  in  her  power  to  advance 
his  interests,  she  one  day  at  a  dinner  presented 
him  with  a  fine  Louis  Quintze  watch  that  had 
belonged  to  her  grandfather,  saying,  "He  hated 
the  English ;  and  I  love  the  Americans." 

Paul  Jones'  response  to  the  gift  was  as  graceful 
as  had  been  the  presentation.  "May  it  please 
your  Royal  Highness,  if  fortune  should  favor  me 
at  sea,  I  will  some  day  lay  an  English  frigate  at 
your  feet."  Two  years  later  he  did  this  and 
more. 

France  had  promised  Jones  a  new  ship  better 
suited  to  his  capabilities  than  the  Ranger.  But 
diplomatic  affairs  between  nations  move  slowly, 


44  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

and  in  this  case  the  waiting  became  tedious. 
Jones  had  exhausted  the  pleasures  of  court 
circles  to  which  he  had  been  admitted  and  he 
longed  for  the  life  of  the  sea.  He  finally  pre- 
ferred his  request  directly  to  the  king  and  shortly 
afterward  was  given,  not  the  great  sea  monster 
he  had  been  led  to  expect,  but  an  insignificant 
looking  craft  called  Le  Duras.  In  compliment  to 
Dr.  Franklin's  magazine  of  the  name  and  in  humor- 
ous comment  of  the  ship's  appearance,  he  re- 
named it  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  meaning  the 
Poor  Richard.  But  with  the  Poor  Richard,  as 
with  the  human  form,  the  spirit  which  animated 
it  was  the  controlling  power;  and  the  valor  of 
Paul  Jones  was  to  send  the  name  of  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard  ringing  down  through  the  ages  of  all 
time. 

As  Captain  Jones  of  the  Ranger,  he  had  cap- 
tured the  Drake,  in  a  big  sea  fight,  and  surprised 
England;  and  now,  as  Commodore  Jones,  he 
was  to  win  distinction  as  the  greatest  of  naval 
heroes. 

Off  the  English  coast  at  Flamborough  Head, 
he  sighted  an  English  fleet.  The  flagship  was 


THE   KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA  45 

the  Serapis,  in  command  of  Captain  Pearson. 
As  the  Bon  Homme  Richard  approached  the 
Serapis,  Captain  Pearson  raised  his  glass  and 
remarked:  "That  is  probably  Paul  Jones.  If 
so,  there  is  work  ahead." 

The  salute  affectionate  between  the  vessels, 
after  the  formal  hail,  was  a  broadside.  Then 
they  fought,  fought  like  fiends  incarnate,  clinched 
in  each  other's  arms,  in  the  death  grapple, 
fought  without  flinching  and,  be  it  said,  to  the 
glory  of  the  American  navy  and  the  credit  of 
the  English.  The  Bon  Homme  was  on  fire  and 
sinking.  Captain  Pearson,  noting  the  situation, 
called,  "Have  you  struck  your  colors?" 

Above  the  smoke  and  din  of  the  conflict,  Jones' 
voice  answered,  "I  have  just  begun  to  fight,  Sir." 

He  then  lashed  his  ship  to  the  Serapis,  and 
stood,  himself,  at  the  guns. 

"Shall  we  be  quitting,  Jamie?"  he  said  in 
banter  to  a  Scotchman  at  his  side. 

"There  is  still  a  shot  in  the  locker,  Sir,"  replied 
the  Scot. 

"I  thought,"  said  Captain  Pearson  afterward, 
"Jones'  answer  to  me  meant  mere  bravado. 


46    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD  GLORY 

But  I  soon  perceived  that  it  was  the  defiance  of  a 
man  desperate  enough,  if  he  could  not  conquer, 
to  sink  with  his  ship." 

The  Bon  Homme  Richard's  sides  were  shot 
away ;  her  prisoners  loose ;  her  decks  strewn  with 
the  dead  and  dying ;  the  Alliance,  her  companion 
ship,  had  turned  traitor  and  fired  into  her.  When 
the  fight  seemed  well-nigh  lost,  a  well-directed 
blow  brought  disaster  to  the  Serapis,  and  she 
hauled  down  her  colors.  As  Captain  Pearson 
surrendered  his  sword,  Commodore  Jones  re- 
marked, "You  have  fought  heroically,  Sir.  I 
trust  your  sovereign  may  suitably  reward  you." 
To  this  Captain  Pearson  returned  no  answer. 

The  wonderful  combat  on  the  sea  became  the 
talk  of  all  Europe.  Paul  Jones'  name  was  honored 
wherever  spoken.  Contrary  to  court  etiquette, 
he  was  invited  to  occupy  apartments  in  the  palace 
of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  de  Chartres.  While  he 
was  there,  a  banquet  was  tendered  him.  During 
the  progress  of  the  dining,  he  called  an  attend- 
ant to  bring  from  his  apartment  a  leather  case. 
This  when  it  was  opened  disclosed  a  sword. 
Turning  to  the  duchess,  the  commodore  asked 


"I  HAVE  THE  HONOR  TO  SURRENDER  TO  THE  LOVELIEST 
WOMAN  THE  SWORD  SURRENDERED  TO  ME  BY  ONE  OF  THE 
BRAVEST  OF  MEN.'' 


48    HOW  THE   FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

if  she  recalled  his  promise  to  lay  a  frigate  at  her 
feet  one  day?  "Your  Royal  Highness  perceives," 
he  went  on,  "the  impossibility  of  keeping  my 
promise  in  kind.  The  English  frigate  proved 
to  be  a  44  on  two  decks ;  the  best  I  can  do  toward 
keeping  my  word  of  two  years  ago,  is  to  place 
in  your  hands  the  sword  of  the  brave  officer  who 
commanded  the  English  44.  I  have  the  honor  to 
surrender  to  the  loveliest  woman  the  sword 
surrendered  to  me  by  one  of  the  bravest  of  men, 
—  the  sword  of  Captain  Richard  Pearson,  of  his 
Britannic  Majesty's  late  ship  the  Serapis." 

The  Royal  Order  of  Military  Merit  with  the 
title  of  Chevalier  and  the  gift  of  a  gold-mounted 
sword  were  conferred  upon  him  by  the  king  of 
France.  Upon  returning  to  America,  he  was 
given  the  rank  of  Head  of  the  Navy. 

Remarkable  as  was  the  career  of  Paul  Jones, 
the  winds  did  not  always  set  in  his  favor.  Many 
times  was  his  life  bark  driven  through  the 
waters  of  bitter  disappointment.  But  "all  that 
he  was,  and  all  that  he  did,  and  all  that  he  knew, 
was  the  result  of  self-help  to  a  degree  unexampled 
in  the  histories  of  great  men." 


THE   KNIGHT  OF  THE  SEA  49 

The  flag  of  the  Ranger,  saluted  by  the  French 
fleet,  was  transferred  by  Jones  to  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard,  and,  says  he,  in  his  journal  as  given  by 
Buell,  "was  left  flying  when  we  abandoned  her; 
the  very  last  vestige  mortal  ever  saw  of  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard  was  the  defiant  waving  of  her 
unconquered  and  unstricken  flag  as  she  went 
down.  And  as  I  had  given  them  the  good  old 
ship  for  their  sepulcher,  I  now  bequeathed  to  my 
immortal  dead  the  Flag  they  had  so  desperately 
defended,  for  their  winding  sheet."  Here  was: 
"the  only  flag,"  says  one,  "flying  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  over  the  only  ship  that  ever  sunk  in 
victory."  l 

And  everywhere, 
The  slender  graceful  spars 
Poise  aloft  in  the  air 
And  at  the  masthead 
White,  blue,  and  red, 
A  flag  unfolds,  the  Stripes  and  Stars. 
Ah,  when  the  wanderers,  lonely,  friendless, 

1  In  Treble's  "  History  of  the  Flags  of  the  United  States,"  it 
is  given  that  when  the  Bon  Homme  Richard  was  sinking  the  flag 
was  transferred  to  the  Serapis,  and  was  afterward  presented 
by  the  Marine  Committee  to  James  Bayard  Stafford  of  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  for  meritorious  services. 

E 


50    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

In  foreign  harbors  shall  behold 
That  flag  unrolled, 
'Twill  be  as  a  friendly  hand 
Stretched  out  from  native  land, 
Filling  his  heart  with  memories 
Sweet  and  endless. 

LONGFELLOW. 


WHERE  THE  STARS  AND  STRIPES 
UNFURLED 

URGOYNE  was  in  the  enemy's  country. 
He  was  cut  off  from  reinforcements.  His 
very  efforts  to  separate  the  colonies  now  recoiled 
upon  his  own  armies.  He  could  neither  advance 
nor  retreat  with  safety.  For  two  weeks  the  op- 
posing armies  had  stood  opposite  each  other 
without  fire.  In  desperation  the  British  general 
now  hazarded  another  battle.  After  a  sustained 
and  terrible  struggle  Burgoyne  went  down  in 
defeat.  His  best  and  bravest  officers  were  lost 
and  seven  hundred  of  his  men  were  killed.  General 
Frazer,  beloved  by  every  British  soldier  and 
respected  by  those  opposed  to  him,  had  fallen 
at  the  hands  of  one  of  Morgan's  riflemen,  of  whom 
it  was  said,  they  could  strike  an  apple  in  mid- 
air and  shoot  out  every  seed. 

On  the  American  side   Benedict  Arnold,   al- 
though divested  of  his  command,  had  ridden  to 

51 


52    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

the  front  of  his  old  regiment  and  became  "the 
inspiring  genius  of  the  battle."  He  charged 
right  into  the  British  lines  and  received  a  severe 
wound.  He  received  also  the  disapproval  of 
General  Gates  and  the  reprimand  of  Congress. 
The  battle  raged  furiously  until  nightfall,  when  the 
proud  Briton  who  had  boasted  "the  British 
never  retreat"  fled  under  cover  of  the  darkness. 
He  gained  the  heights  of  Saratoga,  where  he  found 
himself  completely  hemmed  in  by  the  Americans. 
With  but  three  days'  rations  between  his  army 
and  starvation,  he  was  forced  to  surrender.  While 
he  was  holding  consultation  with  his  officers 
concerning  this,  a  cannon  ball  passed  over  the 
table  at  which  they  were  sitting,  and,  no  doubt, 
hastened  their  conclusions. 

Colonel  Kingston  was  detailed  to  confer  with  the 
American  general  on  articles  of  capitulation. 
He  was  conducted  blindfolded  to  General  Gates 
and  with  him  arranged  the  formalities.  The 
morning  of  October  17,  seventeen  hundred  and 
ninety-one  British  subjects  became  prisoners  of 
war.  They  marched  to  Fort  Hardy  on  the  banks 
of  the  Hudson  and,  in  the  presence  of  Generals 


THE  STARS  AND  STRIPES  UNFURLED    53 

Morgan,  Wilkerson,  and  Lewis,  laid  down  their 
arms.  The  eyes  of  many  of  the  men  were 
suffused  with  tears ;  others  among  them  stamped 
upon  their  muskets  in  anger. 

The  colors  had  been  preserved  to  the  British 
army  through  the  foresight  of  General  Riedesel, 
who  had  handed  them  to  his  wife  for  safe-keeping. 
To  the  credit  of  the  victorious  Americans,  it  is 
said,  they  showed  no  disrespect  to  the  defeated  foe. 
"General  Gates,"  wrote  Lieutenant  Ansbury,  one 
of  the  captured  officers,  "  revealed  exceeding 
nobleness  and  generosity  toward  the  captives, 
commanding  the  troops  to  wheel  round  the 
instant  arms  were  grounded.  And  he,  himself, 
drew  down  the  curtains  of  the  carriage  in  which 
he  was  sitting,  as  the  troops  passed  him  in  re- 
turning." 

For  the  formal  surrender  of  General  Burgoyne 
to  General  Gates  a  marquee  had  been  erected  near 
the  latter's  old  quarters.  To  this  came  the 
British  general  and  staff  in  full  court  dress.  Gen- 
eral Gates  appeared  in  plain  clothes  with  nothing 
to  indicate  his  rank.  As  the  two  generals  ad- 
vanced to  greet  each  other,  General  Burgoyne 


THE  STARS  AND  STRIPES   UNFURLED    55 

removed  his  hat  and  extending  his  sword,  said, 
"The  fortunes  of  war,  General  Gates,  have  made 
me  your  prisoner."  General  Gates,  not  to  be  out- 
done in  polite  address,  returned  the  sword  and 
replied,  "I  shall  always  be  ready  to  bear  testi- 
mony that  it  has  not  been  through  any  fault  of 
your  Excellency." 

The  generals  and  their  officers  then  sat  down 
to  a  table  improvised  of  boards  laid  across  barrels 
and  dined  together  most  amicably,  but  on  very 
frugal  fare.  General  Burgoyne  took  occasion  to 
compliment  the  discipline  of  the  American  army. 
He  then  proposed  a  toast  to  General  Washington. 
General  Gates  then  drank  to  the  health  of  the  king. 
High  above  the  marquee  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
waved  gloriously  in  triumph  of  the  day  of 
first  formal  military  unfurling.  The  turning 
point  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  was  come, 
this  October  day,  1777. 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  BURGOYNE 

October   17,    1777 

BROTHERS,  this  spot  is  holy !     Look  around  ! 
Before  us  flows  our  memory's  sacred  river, 
Whose  banks  are  Freedom's  shrines.     This  grassy 

mound, 

The  altar,  on  whose  height  the  Mighty  Giver 
Gave  Independence  to  our  country ;  when, 
Thanks  to  its  brave,  enduring,  patient  men, 
The  invading  host  was  brought  to  bay  and  laid 
Beneath  "Old  Glory's"  new-born  folds,  the  blade, 
The  brazen  thunder-throats,  the  pomp  of  war, 
And  England's  yoke,  broken  forevermore. 

You,  on  this  spot,  —  thanks  to  our  gracious  God, 
Where  last  in  conscious  arrogance  it  trod, 
Defied,  as  captives,  Burgoyne's  conquered  horde ; 
Below,  their  general  yielded  up  his  sword ; 
There,  to  our  flag,  bowed  England's  battle-torn ; 
Where  now  we  stand,  the  United  States  was  born. 
GENERAL  JOHN  WATTS  DE  PEYSTER. 


THE  YOKE  OF  BRITAIN  BROKEN 

THE  final  scene  in  this  stupendous  drama 
of  American  Freedom  was  enacted  in 
Virginia. 

In  September,  1781,  Washington  began  a  three 
weeks'  siege  against  Yorktown,  held  by  the  British 
under  Lord  Cornwallis.  Finding  himself  there 
completely  surrounded  by  both  land  and  water, 
Cornwallis  was  forced  to  surrender. 

Now  was  the  yoke  of  Great  Britain  at  last 
broken.  Seven  thousand  English  and  Hessian 
soldiers  and  eight  hundred  and  forty  sailors  laid 
down  their  arms  and  became  prisoners  of  war. 

The  formal  ceremony  of  surrender  was  to  take 
place  in  an  open  field  the  last  day  of  October. 
Thousands  of  spectators  assembled  to  behold 
the  detested  Cornwallis  surrender  the  army  they 
had  hated  and  feared. 

The  Americans,  commanded  by  General  Wash- 
ington in  full  uniform,  and  the  French  troops, 

57 


58  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

under  Count  Rochambeau,  were  drawn  up  in  two 
lines.  At  length  a  splendid  charger  issued  through 
the  gate,  bearing  not  the  hated  Cornwallis  as 
expected,  but  General  O'Hara.  So  overcome  was 
Lord  Cornwallis  with  the  consciousness  of  his 
defeat  by  the  ''raw  Americans,"  that,  feigning 
illness,  he  refused  to  appear. 

The  British  troops  in  new  uniforms,  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  worn  and  faded  garb  of  the  colo- 
nists, followed  the  officer  with  colors  furled.  Com- 
ing opposite  General  Washington,  O'Hara  saluted 
and  presented  the  sword  of  Cornwallis.  A  tense 
silence  pervaded  the  assembly.  General  Washing- 
ton motioned  that  the  sword  be  given  to  General 
Lincoln.  Apparently  forgetful  of  the  indignities 
heaped  upon  him  by  the  British  at  Charleston, 
the  latter  returned  the  sword  to  General  O'Hara, 
remarking  as  he  did  so,  "Kindly  return  it  to  his 
Lordship,  Sir." 

"Ground  arms"  came  the  order  from  the 
British  officers.  The  troops  complied  sullenly; 
the  humiliation  felt  by  them  in  their  defeat  was 
everywhere  apparent. 

The  next  day  the  conquered  army  marched  out 


THE  YOKE  OF  BRITAIN  BROKEN       59 

of  Yorktown  between  the  American  and  French 
troops.  Their  fifers,  with  a  brave  show  of  humor, 
played,  "The  World's  turned  Upside  Down." 
Washington  had  directed  his  soldiers  to  show  no 
disrespect  nor  unkindness  to  the  defeated  troops. 
But  the  remembrance  of  "Yankee  Doodle,"  as 
played  by  the  Britons  in  their  times  of  conquest, 
in  taunting  derision  of  the  Americans,  proved 
too  much  for  the  latter  to  endure  without  return, 
when  supreme  occasion  such  as  this  offered.  To 
the  strains  of  "Yankee  Doodle  Do,"  from  Ameri- 
can fifes,  Lord  Cornwallis  and  his  army  bade 
adieu  to  the  scenes  wherein  they  had  once  marched 
as  conquerors. 

In  thanksgiving  to  God  was  voiced  the  nation's 
exultation.  Congress  adjourned  the  sessions  and 
the  members  repaired  to  church  to  give  thanks; 
business  was  suspended  in  all  places.  Through- 
out the  land  the  voice  of  the  people  was  raised 
in  a  mighty  chorus  of  prayer  and  praise  to  the 
Almighty. 


YORKTOWN 

I^ROM  Yorktown's  ruins,  ranked  and  still, 
Two  lines  stretch  far  o'er  vale  and  hill : 
Who  curbs  his  steed  at  head  of  one  ? 
Hark  !   the  low  murmur :  Washington ! 
Who  bends  his  keen,  approving  glance 
Where  down  the  gorgeous  line  of  France 
Shine  knightly  star  and  plume  of  snow? 
Thou  too  art  victor,  Rochambeau ! 

The  earth  which  bears  this  calm  array 
Shook  with  the  war-charge  yesterday ; 
Plowed  deep  with  hurrying  hoof  and  wheel, 
Shot  down  and-  bladed  thick  with  steel ; 
October's  clear  and  noonday  sun 
Paled  in  the  breath-smoke  of  the  gun ; 
And  down  night's  double  blackness  fell,     . 
Like  a  dropped  star,  the  blazing  shell. 

Now  all  is  hushed  :  th    gleaming  lines 
Stand  moveless  as  the  neighboring  pines ; 
While  through  them,  sullen,  grim,  and  slow, 
The  conquered  hosts  of  England  go ; 

60 


YORKTOWN  61 

O'Hara's  brow  belies  his  dress, 
Gay  Tarleton's  troops  ride  bannerless ; 
Shout  from  the  fired  and  wasted  homes, 
Thy  scourge,  Virginia,  captive  comes ! 

Nor  thou  alone :  with  one  glad  voice 
Let  all  thy  sister  States  rejoice : 
Let  Freedom,  in  whatever  clime 
She  waits  with  sleepless  eye  her  time, 
Shouting  from  cave  and  mountain  wood 
Make  glad  her  desert  solitude, 
While  they  who  hunt  her,  quail  with  fear ; 
The  New  World's  chain  lies  broken  here ! 

WHITTIER. 


FROM  THE   OTHER  SIDE 

(1812) 

THE  year  1812  witnessed  our  second  war 
with  Great  Britain.  In  an  effort  to  pre- 
vent emigration  from  her  shores  England  claimed 
the  right  to  seize  any  of  her  subjects  upon  any 
vessel  of  the  high  seas.  America  denied  her 
right  to  do  this  on  American  ships.  Disagree- 
ment broke  into  open  rupture.  War  with  the 
mother  country  was  again  declared. 

The  doughty  American  seamen  would  not  wait 
for  attack  upon  them,  but  went  forth  aggressively 
against  the  squadron  of  the  British.  Oddly 
enough,  considering  the  condition  of  the  poorly 
equipped  navy,  they  were  remarkably  successful 
and  captured  more  than  two  hundred  and  fifty 
prizes.  The  following  year,  however,  the  British 
gained  the  ascendency,  and  in  1814  came  in  with 
sea  force  and  land  force  and  sacked  and  burned 

62 


FROM   THE  OTHER  SIDE  63 

the  Capitol  at  Washington  and  all  public  build- 
ings except  the  patent  office. 

They  then  proceeded  against  Baltimore.  The 
land  troops  were  almost  in  sight  of  the  city  of  their 
desires,  when  they  were  halted  and  held  in  check 
by  American  troops  under  General  Sticker,  whose 
name,  it  may  be  said,  meant  as  it  sounded,  and 
who  effectually  prevented  their  further  advance. 
But  the  fleet  on  the  waters  sailed  into  the  bay  of 
Baltimore  and  up  to  Fort  McHenry  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Patapsco  River,  in  the  determination  to 
bombard  the  fortress  and  compel  entrance  to  the 
city  in  that  way.  The  British  admiral  had 
boasted  the  fort  would  fall  to  his  hand  an  easy 
prey. 

Prior  to  this,  Dr.  William  Beane,  a  citizen  of 
Baltimore  and  a  non-combatant,  had  been  cap- 
tured at  Marlboro  and  was  held  a  prisoner  on 
one  of  the  vessels  of  the  British  fleet.  To  secure 
his  release,  Francis  Scott  Key  and  John  Skinner 
set  out  from  Baltimore  on  the  ship  Minden 
flying  a  flag  of  truce.  The  British  admiral 
received  them  kindly  and  released  Dr.  Beane; 
but  detained  the  three  on  board  ship  pending 


FROM  SUNRISE  TO  SUNSET  THEY  WATCHED  THE  SHOT  AKD 
SHELL  POURED  INTO  THE  FORT  AND  NOTED  WITH  INFINITE 
JOY  THAT  THE  FLAG  STILL  FLEW. 


FROM  THE  OTHER  SIDE  65 

the  bombardment  of  the  fort,  lest  in  their  return 
to  land  the  intentions  of  the  British  might  be 
frustrated. 

Thus  from  the  side  of  the  enemy  they  were 
constrained  to  witness  the  efforts  of  destruction 
urged  against  the  protecting  fortress  of  their  own 
city.  From  sunrise  to  sunset  they  watched  the 
shot  and  shell  poured  into  the  fort  and  noted 
with  infinite  joy  that  the  flag  still  flew.  Through 
the  glare  of  the  artillery,  as  the  night  advanced, 
they  caught  now  and  then  the  gleam  of  the  flag 
still  flying.  Would  it  be  there  at  another  sun- 
rise ?  Who  could  tell !  Suddenly  the  cannonad- 
ing ceased.  The  British,  despairing  of  carrying  the 
fort,  abandoned  the  project.  In  the  emotion  of 
the  hour  and  inspiration  born  of  the  victory,  Key 
composed  the  immortal  lines  now  become  our 
national  anthem,  "  The  Star-Spangled  Banner." 

The  flag  is  preserved  in  the  museum  of  Wash- 
ington and  is  distinctive  in  having  fifteen  stripes 
and  fifteen  stars,  one  of  the  very  few  national  flags 
with  this  number. 


THE  STAR-SPANGLED   BANNER 

OH,  say,  can  you  see,  by  the  dawn's  early  light, 
What  so  proudly  we  hailed  at  the  twilight's 

last  gleaming ; 
Whose  broad   stripes   and   bright  stars  thro'   the 

perilous  fight 
O'er  the  ramparts  we  watched  were  so  gallantly 

streaming  ? 
And  the  rocket's  red  glare,  the  bombs  bursting  in 

air, 
Gave  proof  through  the  night  that  our  flag  was  still 

there ; 

Oh,  say,  does  that  star-spangled  banner  yet  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave  ? 

On  the  shore  dimly  seen  through  the  mists  of  the 
deep, 

Where  the  foe's  haughty  host  in  dread  silence  re- 
poses, 

What  is  that  which  the  breeze  o'er  the  towering 
steep, 

As  it  fitfully  blows,  half  conceals,  half  discloses? 

66 


THE  STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER          67 

Now  it  catches  the  gleam  of  the  morning's  first  beam, 
In  full  glory  reflected  now  shines  in  the  stream ; 
'Tis   the   star-spangled   banner;    oh,   long   may  it 

wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave ! 

And  where  is  that  land  who  so  vauntingly  swore 
That  the  havoc  of  war  and  the  battle's  confusion 
A  home  and  a  country  should  leave  us  no  more  ? 
Their  blood  has  washed  out  their  foul  footsteps' 

pollution. 

No  refuge  could  save  the  hireling  and  slave 
From  the  terror  of  flight  or  the  gloom  of  the  grave ; 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  doth  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 

Oh !  thus  be  it  ever,  when  freemen  shall  stand 
Between  their  loved  homes  and  wild  war's  desola- 
tion; 

Blest   with   vict'ry   and   peace   may  the   Heaven- 
rescued  land 
Praise  the  Power  that  hath  made  and  preserved  us  a 

nation. 

Then  conquer  we  must,  when  our  cause  it  is  just, 
And  this  be  our  motto :  "In  God  is  our  trust !" 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  n  triumph  shall  wave 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave ! 

FRANCIS  SCOTT  KEY. 


THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY 

UPON  every  recurrence  of  January  the 
eighth,  the  city  of  New  Orleans  dons  gala 
attire  and  shouts  herself  hoarse  with  rejoicing. 
She  chants  the  Te  Deum  in  her  Cathedrals; 
and  lays  wreaths  of  immortelles  and  garlands  of 
roses  and  sweet-smelling  shrubs  upon  the  monu- 
ment of  Andrew  Jackson  in  Jackson  Square. 

"The  Saviour  of  New  Orleans,"  the  inhabitants 
called  Jackson  in  the  exuberance  of  their  grati- 
tude for  his  defense  of  the  city,  and  their  deliver- 
ance from  threatened  peril,  that  fateful  day  of 
January,  1815.  From  capture  and  pillage  and 
divers  evil  things  he  saved  her,  and  the  Crescent 
City  has  not  forgotten. 

Neither  indeed  has  the  nation  become  unmind- 
ful of  his  great  achievement,  but  upon  each  suc- 
ceeding anniversary  of  the  battle  of  New  Orleans 
—  that  remarkable  battle  that  gloriously  ended 
the  War  of  1812,  and  restored  the  national  pride 

68 


THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY    69 

and  honor  so  sorely  wounded  by  the  fall  of  Wash- 
ington—celebrates the  event  in  the  chief  cities 
of  the  United  States. 

During  our  second  clash  of  arms  with  Eng- 
land, the  Creek  War,  wherein  the  red  man  met 
his  doom,  brought  Jackson's  name  into  prom- 
inence. At  one  bound,  as  it  were,  he  sprang 
from  comparative  obscurity  into  renown. 

In  1814  he  was  appointed  a  major  general  in 
the  United  States  army,  and  established  his  head- 
quarters at  Mobile.  He  repulsed  the  English 
at  Fort  Bowyer,  on  Mobile  Point,  and  awaited 
orders  from  Washington  to  attack  them  at 
Pensacola,  where,  through  the  sympathy  of  the 
Spaniards  who  were  then  in  possession  of  the 
Florida  peninsula,  they  had  their  base  of  opera- 
tions. 

Receiving  no  orders  from  Washington,  he  be- 
came impatient  of  delay,  and  upon  his  own  re- 
sponsibility marched  his  troops  against  Pensacola 
and  put  the  British  to  flight.  "This,"  says 
Sumner,  "was  the  second  great  step  in  the  war  in 
the  Southwest." 

Washington  had  been  captured  and  her  princi- 


70    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD  GLORY 

pal  public  buildings  burned,  and  New  Orleans, 
the  Crescent  City,  would  now,  it  was  thought, 
be  the  next  point  of  attack  by  the  British. 

To  New  Orleans,  therefore,  "to  defend  a  de- 
fenseless city,  which  had  neither  fleets  nor  forts, 
means  nor  men,"  came  Jackson. 

His  entrance  into  the  city  was  quiet  and  un- 
ostentatious and  so  devoid  of  the  pomp  and 
pageantry  of  a  victorious  general  as  to  cause 
question  in  the  minds  of  some  as  to  whether  or 
not  this  was  the  man  expected.  His  dress  was 
plain  in  the  extreme,  and  bore  upon  it  no  insignia 
of  rank ;  yet  those  there  were,  of  insight,  who  saw 
in  his  every  aspect  the  man  of  power. 

From  eye  and  posture  and  gesture  emanated  a 
certain  indefinable  force  that  attracted  men  to 
him,  and  created  in  them  an  enthusiasm  for  his 
cause.  Old  and  young  who  came  under  his 
influence  were  ready  to  do  his  bidding. 

To  the  terrified  women  and  children  of  New 
Orleans  who  appealed  to  him  for  protection  from 
the  enemy,  he  replied :  — 

"The  British  shall  not  enter  the  city  except 
over  my  dead  body."  . 


THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY    71 

His  words  and  his  presence  inspired  confidence. 
And  when  his  flag  was  run  up  above  his  head- 
quarters in  Royal  Street  a  sense  of  security  was 
felt  by  the  inhabitants. 

The  conditions  about  him,  however,  were 
far  from  promising,  and  to  a  less  determined 
spirit  than  that  of  Jackson  would  have  been 
appalling. 

The  troops  under  him  were  few  in  number  and 
poorly  equipped  for  battle.  The  Crescent  City 
was  ill  equipped  for  defense.  The  governor 
and  the  Legislature  were  at  loggerheads. 

As  was  his  way  in  a  crisis,  General  Jackson  took 
matters  into  his  own  hands. 

He  placed  the  city  under  martial  law  and 
made  every  man  a  sailor  or  a  soldier  compelled 
to  the  restrictions  and  the  rules  governing*  the 
army. 

He  was  aware  that  his  action  was  open  to  severe 
censure,  but  in  the  face  of  the  object  to  be  at- 
tained he  held  this  as  of  little  consequence. 

While  engaged  in  examining  a  situation  for  a 
fortification  in  one  direction,  the  British  effected 
a  landing  in  another.  They  had  captured  the 


72    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

American  flotilla  guarding  the  entrance  to  Lake 
Borgne  and  were  making  ready  to  advance  upon 
the  city. 

This  information  brought  consternation  to  the 
inhabitants  but  not  to  the  indomitable  Jackson. 
Obstacles  to  him  were  but  objects  to  be  overcome. 
He  swung  his  troops  into  line  and  went  out  to 
meet  the  enemy.  The  advance  was  checked 
by  a  sharp  engagement  with  little  loss  to  either 
side. 

He  then  set  the  little  schooner  Carolina, 
in  the  Mississippi,  to  bombarding  the  levee  where 
the  British  gunners  had  taken  refuge.  With 
her  guns  continuously  roaring  she  kept  the  Brit- 
ishers at  bay  for  three  whole  days,  when  she  suc- 
cumbed to  their  heavy  fire  and  exploded.  Her 
entire  crew  escaped  with  the  exception  of  one 
man  killed  and  six  wounded. 

On  the  field  of  Chalmette,  a  few  miles  below 
New  Orleans,  the  opposing  armies  threw  up 
intrenchments  from  the  same  soft  ooze  and  mud, 
so  close  they  now  stood  to  each  other.  From  an 
upper  room  of  the  McCarte  mansion  house  — 
the  home  of  a  wealthy  Creole  —  General  Jackson 


THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY    73 

surveyed  the  operations  of  the  enemy;  and 
directed  the  movements  of  his  own  troops. 

December  the  28th  an  advance  was  made  by 
the  British  on  the  American  lines  but  without 
significant  results.  On  New  Year's  Day  another 
attack  was  made. 

In  the  interim  between  these  assaults  went 
out  an  order  from  General  Jackson  to  Governor 
Claiborne  that  involved  the  general  for  years  there- 
after in  legal  complications  with  the  Louisiana 
Legislature.  News  was  borne  to  General  Jackson 
on  the  field  that  the  Legislature  was  preparing 
to  capitulate  New  Orleans  in  the  belief  that  the 
city  would  be  captured. 

"Tell  Claiborne,"  said  the  irate  Jackson,  "to 
blow  them  up." 

Later,  he  wrote  to  Governor  Claiborne,  in  case 
the  report  was  true,  to  place  a  guard  at  the 
door  of  the  legislative  hall  and  keep  the  members 
in  it;  where  they  could,  he  satirically  remarked 
to  a  friend,  have  full  time  to  make  some  whole- 
some laws  for  the  State  without  distraction  from 
outside  matters. 

Through  mistake  in  the  execution  of  the  order, 


74  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

the  enraged  lawmakers  were  kept  outside  of  the 
assembly  hall  instead  of  in  it,  and  the  session  was 
broken  up. 

At  break  of  dawn  that  memorable  day  of  January 
8th,  1815,  the  British  were  prepared  to  attack. 

Jackson  and  his  valorous  volunteers  were 
ready.  A  pygmy  force  were  they  against  a  mighty 
one !  Raw  recruits  contending  against  the  trained 
veterans  of  Wellington's  army,  led  by  the  gallant 
Packenham ! 

The  signal  rocket  went  up. 

The  long  red  lines  advanced  over  the  field. 

But  to  what  a  fate ! 

"  Don't  shoot  till  you  can  see  the  whites  of  their 
eyes ! "  -  Jackson  had  instructed. 

"Fire!" 

When  the  smoke  cleared,  British  soldiers,  dead 
and  dying,  thickly  strewed  the  ground. 

Intrenched  behind  their  barricades  of  cotton 
bales  and  sand  and  mud,  the  Americans  were 
scarcely  touched. 

The  murderous  fire  went  on. 

The  British  columns  reeled  and  broke. 


THE  DEFENSE  OF  THE  CRESCENT  CITY   75 

General  Packenham  heroically  waved  his  troops 
forward  and  fell,  wounded  to  death. 

General  Gibbs,  second  in  command,  was  struck 
down. 

General  Keane  was  disabled. 

The  leaders  were  fallen!  The  troops  were 
disordered. 

In  the  distance  the  red  lines  receded. 

Jackson  had  won. 

In  less  than  thirty  minutes  the  unequal  conflict 
had  ended,  save  in  the  silencing  of  the  guns, 
which  required  two  hours  to  accomplish. 

Never  in  the  annals  of  history  has  such  a  victory 
been  recorded. 

The  loss  to  the  English  was  two  thousand 
killed,  wounded,  and  captured.  The  American 
loss  was  but  eight  killed  and  thirteen  wounded. 

General  Jackson  marched  his  victorious  troops 
into  New  Orleans,  where  he  was  received  with  the 
wildest  enthusiasm. 

The  whole  country  applauded  and  rejoiced. 

Andrew  Jackson  had  become  the  Hero  of  the 
Nation. 


76    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

At  Ghent,  two  weeks  before  the  battle,  the 
Treaty  of  Peace  between  England  and  the  United 
States  had  been  signed ;  but  the  ship  bearing  the 
news  had  not  then  reached  this  country. 

But  —  Jackson  had  finished  the  war  —  had 
"finished  the  war  in  GLORY  !" 


THE  CIVIL  WAR 

(1861) 

THE  War  between  the  States  in  1861  was 
one  of  the  most  terrible  conflicts  known  to 
modern  times. 

Many  causes  led  up  to  it,  chief  among  which 
was  a  difference  in  the  interpretation  of  the 
Constitution  by  the  people  of  the  North  and  of 
the  South.  The  slavery  question  was  also  a 
point  of  dispute;  and  several  minor  causes 
brought  about  a  dissension  in  the  two  sections 
that  resulted  in  the  gigantic  struggle  of  friend 
against  friend,  brother  against  brother,  father 
against  son. 

The  early  engagements  of  the  contending  forces 
were  ones  of  signal  victory  to  the  South.  The 
disunion  of  the  nation  was  so  seriously  threatened 
as  to  bring  grave  concern  to  the  Federal  govern- 
ment. As  the  weeks  and  months  wore  away, 

77 


78    HOW  THE  FLAG   BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

victory  perched  above  the  banner  of  the  Federals, 
and  the  climax  was  reached  in  the  surrender  of 
General  Lee  at  Appomattox,  after  four  years  of 
deadly  strife. 

Both  sides  fought  valiantly.  Both  won;  in 
that  the  glory  of  the  Republic  was  to  stand 
henceforth  supreme  among  foreign  nations,  the 
greatness  of  the  combatants  to  receive  a  recogni- 
tion never  to  be  effaced. 

Through  a  perspective  of  fifty  years  of  peace, 
the  heroism  displayed  on  either  field  by  those 
engaged  therein  is,  to  the  most  partisan  observer, 
silhouetted  upon  the  mental  vision  in  glowing 
lines  of  light.  Justly  we  term  it  "Our  most 
Heroic  Period." 

Not  the  least  remarkable  of  this  aftermath, 
transcending  all  experiences  of  other  nations,  is 
the  brotherhood,  the  kindly  feeling  of  sympathy 
and  understanding,  that  after  the  passage  of 
but  half  a  century  now  binds  the  once  warring 
sections  in  indissoluble  bonds  of  unity. 


CHARLESTON 

CALM  as  that  second  summer  which  precedes 
The  first  fall  of  the  snow, 
In  the  broad  sunlight  of  heroic  deeds, 
The  city  bides  the  foe. 

As  yet,  behind  their  ramparts,  stern  and  proud, 

Her  bolted  thunders  sleep,  - 
Dark  Sumter,  like  a  battlemented  cloud, 

Looms  o'er  the  solemn  deep. 

No  Calpe  frowns  from  lofty  cliff  or  scaur 

To  guard  the  holy  strand ; 
But  Moultrie  holds  in  leash  her  dogs  of  war 

Above  the  level  sand. 

And  down  the  dunes  a  thousand  guns  lie  couched, 

Unseen,  beside  the  flood,  - 
Like  tigers  in  some  Orient  jungle  crouched, 

That  wait  and  watch  for  blood. 

Meanwhile,  through  streets  still  echoing  with  trade, 

Walk  grave  and  thoughtful  men, 
Whose  hands  may  one  day  wield  the  patriot's  blade 

As  lightly  as  the  pen. 
79 


80  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

And  maidens,  with  such  eyes  as  would  grow  dim, 

Over  a  bleeding  hound, 
Seem  each  one  to  have  caught  the  strength  of  him 

Whose  sword  she  sadly  bound. 

Thus  girt  without  and  garrisoned  at  home, 

Day  patient  following  day, 
Old  Charleston  looks  from  roof  and  spire  and  dome, 

Across  her  tranquil  bay. 

Ships,  through  a  hundred  foes,  from  Saxon  lands 

And  spicy  Indian  ports, 
Bring  Saxon  steel  and  iron  to  her  hands, 

And  summer  to  her  courts. 

But  still,  along  yon  dim  Atlantic  line, 

The  only  hostile  smoke 
Creeps  like  a  harmless  mist  above  the  brine, 

From  some  frail  floating  oak. 

Shall  the  spring  dawn,  and  she,  still  clad  in  smiles, 

And  with  an  unscathed  brow, 
Rest  in  the  strong  arms  of  her  palm-crowned  isles, 

As  fair  and  free  as  now 

We  know  not ;  •  in  the  temple  of  the  Fates 

God  has  inscribed  her  doom  : 
And,  all  untroubled  in  her  faith,  she  waits 

The  triumph  or  the  tomb. 

HENRY  TIMROD. 


FREDERICKSBURG 
Dec.  13,  1862 

THE  increasing  moonlight  drifts  across  my  bed, 
And  on  the  church-yard  by  the  road,  I  know 

It  falls  as  white  and  noiselessly  as  snow. 
'Twas  such  a  night  two  weary  summers  fled ; 
The  stars,  as  now,  were  waning  overhead. 

Listen !    Again  the  shrill-lipped  bugles  blow 

Where  the  swift  currents  of  the  river  flow 
Past  Fredericksburg :  far  off  the  heavens  are  red 

With  sudden  conflagration  :  on  yon  height, 
Linstock  in  hand,  the  gunners  hold  their  breath : 

A  signal-rocket  pierces  the  dense  night, 
Flings  its  spent  stars  upon  the  town  beneath : 

Hark !  the  artillery  massing  on  the  right, 
Hark !  the  black  squadrons  wheeling  down  to  Death ! 
THOMAS  BAILEY  ALDRICH. 


81 


CIVIL  WAR1 

RIFLEMAN,  shoot  me  a  fancy  shot 
Straight  at  the  heart  of  yon  prowling  videtfce ; 
Ring  me  a  ball  in  the  glittering  spot  .  ' 

That  shines  on  his  breast  like  an  amulet !" 

"Ah,  Captain !    here  goes  for  a  fine-drawn  bead, 
There's  music  around  when  my  barrel's  in  tune  !" 

Crack !  went  the  rifle,  the  messenger  sped, 
And  dead  from  his  horse  fell  the  ringing  dragoon. 

"Now,  rifleman,  steal  through  the  bushes,  and  snatch 
From  your  victim  some  trinket  to  handsel  first 
blood ; 

A  button,  a  loop,  or  that  luminous  patch 

That  gleams  in  the  moon  like  a  diamond  stud  !" 

"0,  Captain !     I  staggered,  and  sunk  on  my  track, 
When  I  gazed  on  the  face  of  that  fallen  vidette, 

For  he  looked  so  like  you,  as  he  lay  on  his  back, 
That  my  heart  rose  upon  me,  and  masters  me  yet." 

lfThe  above  has  been  sometimes  entitled  "The  Fancy 
Shot."  It  appeared  first  in  a  London  weekly  and  is  commonly 
attributed  to  Charles  Dawson  Shanley,  who  died  in  the  late 
seventies. 

82 


CIVIL  WAR  83 

"But  I  snatched  off  the  trinket,  —  this  locket  of 
gold; 

An  inch  from  the  center  my  lead  broke  its  way, 
Scarce  grazing  the  picture,  so  fair  to  behold, 

Of  a  beautiful  lady  in  bridal  array." 

"Ha !    Rifleman,  fling  me  the  locket !  --  'tis  she, 
My  brother's  young  bride,  and  the  fallen  dragoon 

Was  her  husband  —  Hush !   soldier,  'twas  Heaven's 

decree, 
We  must  bury  him  there,  by  the  light  of  the  moon ! 

"But  hark !  the  far  bugles  their  warnings  unite; 

War  is  a  virtue,  —  weakness  a  sin ; 
There's  a  lurking  and  loping  around  us  to-night ; 

Load  again,  rifleman,  keep  your  hand  in ! " 

CHARLES  DAWSON  SHANLEY. 


'ROUND   SHILOH   CHURCH 

WITHIN  Shiloh  Church  that  fateful,  day 
of  1862,  no  sound  of  song  or  praise  was 
heard.  But  all  without  the  leaden  missiles  rang 
and  sang  in  chorus  of  red  death.  Green  blades 
of  grass,  dew-tipped,  sprang  up  to  greet  the  sun 
that  April  morn,  but  ere  night  fell  were  bowed  to 
earth  with  weight  of  human  blood.  Ne'er  before 
had  little  church  looked  out  on  such  a  scene. 
Ten  thousand  homes  and  hearts  of  North  and 
South  were  there  made  desolate;  and  twice  ten 
thousand  men  gave  up  their  lives.  The  world 
looked  on  and  wondered. 

Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  the  hero  of  three 
wars,  had  staked  his  life  and  cause  that  April 
day,  for  victory  or  defeat. 

He  met  —  both. 

It  was  recognized  by  both  the  Northern  and 
Southern  armies  that  Johnston  was  a  formidable 
antagonist.  That  he  was  a  man  of  most  magnetic 
personality  as  well  as  a  brave  officer. 

84 


'ROUND   SHILOH   CHURCH  85 

Where  he  led  men  followed. 

The  Black  Hawk  War  made  his  name  familiar 
throughout  the  country.  In  the  War  with  Mexico 
he  won  distinction. 

As  he  reviewed  his  troops  at  Shiloh,  he  be- 
held on  every  side  his  friends  of  other  days, 
and  men  who  had  served  under  him  on  other 
fields. 

When  the  War  between  the  States  came  on, 
Johnston  was  a  brigadier  general  in  the  United 
States  Army ;  and  although  he  was  offered  any 
position  he  might  desire  with  the  Federal  govern- 
ment, he  resigned  to  cast  his  lot  with  the  South, 
and  against  the  land  of  his  ancestry,  for  he  was  a 
son  of  Connecticut.  Texas  had  been  his  home, 
and  to  the  Lone  Star  State  he  felt  his  allegiance 
due. 

Disappointment,  as  pertained  to  his  life  ambi- 
tions, had  often  before  waited  upon  his  foot- 
steps when  the  thing  desired  seemed  ready  to 
his  grasp.  Yet,  seeing  his  duty  clearly,  he 
did  it. 

To  his  sister  by  marriage,  when  she,  in  surprise 
at  his  action  in  resigning,  wrote  him  in  California, 


86  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

where  he  was  then  stationed,  he  replied  that  he 
was  deeply  sensible  of  the  "calamitious  condition" 
of  the  country ;  and  that  whatever  his  part  there- 
after regarding  it,  he  congratulated  himself  that 
no  act  of  his  had  aided  in  bringing  it  about ;  that 
the  adjustment  of  the  difficulties  by  the  sword 
was  not  in  his  judgment  the  remedy. 

Secession  was  to  him  a  grievous  thing. 

Arriving  at  Richmond,  from  the  West,  General 
Johnston  was  given  the  command  of  the  Western 
Department  of  the  Confederacy. 

From  September  to  February,  1862,  he  held  the 
line  against  heavy  odds  at  Bowling  Green,  Ky., 
when  he  retreated  to  Corinth,  Miss.,  where  he 
assembled  his  entire  army  and  attacked  Grant 
at  Shiloh  Church  near  Pittsburg  Landing, 
Tenn. 

In  the  flush  tide  of  a  great  victory,  he  was 
struck  by  a  Minie  ball  and  expired  in  a  few 
moments. 

He  rode  a  magnificent  black  animal  called 
"Fire-eater."  On  horseback  General  Johnston 
appeared  to  distinct  advantage.  The  masterly 
manner  in  which  he  sat  his  horse  attracted  the 


'ROUND  SHILOH  CHURCH  87 

attention  of  the  commander  in  chief  of  the  army, 
Thomas  J.  Rusk,  during  the  Texan  Revolution, 
and  procured  him  the  appointment  of  adjutant 
general  over  several  eager  aspirants  for  the 
position. 

As  he  passed  along  the  lines  to  the  front  of  the 
troops  at  Shiloh,  he  raised  his  hat  and  cried  out, 

"I  will  lead  you!" 

To  this  the  men  responded  with  a  mighty  cheer 
and  quickened  movement,  albeit  they  knew  he 
was  leading  many  of  them  to  death. 

Hard  up  the  slopes  they  pressed. 

Nor  shot,  nor  shell,  nor  falling  men  deterred 
them. 

The  summit  was  reached.  The  Federals  were 
in  retreat.  A  little  apart  from  the  others,  a  fine 
target  for  the  deadly  marksman,  the  figure  of 
General  Johnston  on  "Fire-eater"  was  plainly 
visible. 

His  clothing  was  torn  in  places.  His  boot  sole 
was  slashed  by  a  ball,  but  he  himself  was  unin- 
jured. 

In  his  countenance  was  reflected  a  satisfaction 
of  the  day's  results. 


FROM    THE    LAST    LINE    OF    THE    RETREATING    FEDERALS    A    BULLET 
WHISTLED   BACK,   WHISTLED   BACK   AND   CUT   HIM   DOWN. 


'ROUND   SHILOH   CHURCH  89 

The  wisdom  of  his  decisions  had  been  proven; 
his  judgment  justified. 

From  the  last  line  of  the  retreating  Federals  a 
bullet  whistled  back,  whistled  back  and  cut  him 
down,  did  its  fatal  work  in  the  very  moment  in 
which  he  felt  the  conviction  that  success  now 
lay  with  the  Confederate  cause. 

His  death  seemed  for  a  time  to  paralyze  the 
further  efforts  of  his  troops,  to  whom  his  presence 
had  been  a  continual  inspiration. 

General  Beauregard  took  command. 

Night  fell  and  the  battle  was  stayed. 

The  Federals  had  been  driven  to  the  banks  of 
the  Tennessee  River,  where  the  gunboats  afforded 
but  meager  protection. 

From  Nashville,  General  Buell  arrived  before 
daybreak  with  the  needed  reinforcements.  Lew 
Wallace  came  in.  Grant  assumed  the  offensive; 
and  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  of  the  hard- 
fought  contest  the  final  victory  swept  to  the 
Federals. 

What  would  have  been  the  result  to  the  Con- 
federate cause  had  the  great  leader  not  fallen 
that  first  day,  who  can  say  ? 


90    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD  GLORY 

"In  his  fall,  the  great  pillar  of  the  Southern 
Confederacy  was  crushed,"  says  Jefferson  Davis 
in  his  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Confederate  Govern- 
ment, "and  beneath  its  fragments  the  best  hope 
of  the  Southland  lay  buried." 


ALBERT  SIDNEY  JOHNSTON, 

I  HEAR  again  the  tread  of  war  go  thundering 
through  the  land, 
And  Puritan  and  Cavalier  are  clinching  neck  and 

hand, 
Round  Shiloh  church  the  furious  foes  have  met  to 

thrust  and  slay, 

Where  erst  the  peaceful  sons  of  Christ  were  wont  to 
kneel  and  pray. 

The  wrestling  of  the  ages  shakes  the  hills  of  Tennessee 
With  all  their  echoing  mounts  athrob  with  war's  wild 

minstrelsy ; 

A  galaxy  of  stars  new-born  around  the  shield  of  Mars 
And  set  against  the  Stars  and  Stripes  the  flashing 

Stars  and  Bars. 

'Twas  Albert  Sidney  Johnston  led  the  columns  of  the 

Gray, 
Like  Hector  on  the  plains  of  Troy  his  presence  fired 

the  fray ; 
And  dashing  horse  and  gleaming  sword  spake  out  his 

royal  will 
As  on  the  slopes  of  Shiloh  field  the  blasts  of  war  blew 

shrill. 

91 


92  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

"Down  with  the  base  invaders,"  the  Gray  shout 

forth  the  cry, 
"Death  to  presumptuous  rebels,"  the  Blue  ring  out 

reply ; 

All  day  the  conflict  rages  and  yet  again  all  day, 
Though  Grant  is  on  the  Union  side  he  cannot  stem 

nor  stay. 

They  are  a  royal  race  of  men,  these  brothers  face  to 

face, 
Their  fury  speaking  through  their  guns,  their  frenzy 

in  their  pace ; 
The  sweeping  onset  of  the  Gray  bears  down  the  sturdy 

Blue, 
Though  Sherman  and  his  legions  are  heroes  through 

and  through. 

Though  Prentiss  and  his  gallant  men  are  forcing 

scaur  and  crag, 
They  fall  like  sheaves  before  the  scythes  of  Hardee 

and  of  Bragg ; 
Ah,  who  shall  tell  the  victor's  tale  when  all  the  strife 

is  past, 
When,  man  and  man,  in  one  great  mold,  the  men 

who  strive  are  cast? 

As  when  the  Trojan  hero  came  from  that  fair  city's 

gates, 
With  tossing  mane  and  flaming  crest  to  scorn  the 

scowling  fates, 


ALBERT  SIDNEY  JOHNSTON  93 

His  legions  gather  round  him  and  madly  charge  and 

cheer, 
And  fill  besieging  armies  with  wild  disheveled  fear ; 

Then  bares  his  breast  unto  the  dart  the  daring 

spearsman  sends, 
And  dying  hears  his  cheering  foes,  the  wailing  of  his 

friends, 

So  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  the  chief  of  belt  and  scar, 
Lay  down  to  die  at  Shiloh  and  turned  the  scales  of 

war. 

Now  five  and  twenty  years  are  gone,  and  lo,  to-day 

they  come, 
The  Blue  and  Gray  in  proud  array  with  throbbing 

fife  and  drum ; 

But  not  as  rivals,  not  as  foes,  as  brothers  reconciled ; 
To  twine  love's  fragrant  roses  where  the  thorns  of 

hate  grew  wild ; 

Aye,  five  and  twenty  years,  and  lo,  the  manhood  of 

the  South 
Has  held  its  valor  staunch  and  strong  as  at  the 

cannon's  mouth, 
With  patient  heart  and  silent  tongue  has  kept  its 

true  parole, 
And  in  the  conquests  born  of  peace  has  crowned  its 

battle  roll. 


94  HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

But  ever  while  we  sing  of  war,  of  courage  tried  and 

true, 

Of  heroes  wed  to  gallant  deeds,  or  be  it  Gray  or  Blue, 
Then  Albert  Sidney  Johnston's  name  shall  flash 

before  our  sight 
Like  some  resplendent  meteor  across  the  somber 

night. 

America,  thy  sons  are  knit  with  sinews  wrought  of 

steel, 
They  will  not  bend,  they  will  not  break,  beneath  the 

tyrant's  heel ; 
But  in  the  white-hot  flame  of  love,  to  silken  cobwebs 

spun, 
They  whirl  the  engines  of  the  world,  all  keeping  time 

as  one. 

To-day  they  stand  abreast  and  strong,  who  stood  as 

foes  of  yore, 
The  world  leaps  up  to  bless  their  feet,  heaven  scatters 

blessings  o'er; 
Their  robes  are  wrought  of  gleaming  gold,  their 

wings  are  freedom's  own, 
The   trampling   of   their  conquering   hosts  shakes 

pinnacle  and  throne. 

Oh,  veterans  of  the  Blue  and  Gray  who  fought  on 

Shiloh  field, 
The  purposes  of  God  are  true,  His  judgment  stands 

revealed ; 


ALBERT  SIDNEY  JOHNSTON  95 

The  pangs  of  war  have  rent  the  veil,  and  lo,  His  high 

decree : 
One  heart,  one  hope,  one  destiny,  one  flag  from  sea 

to  sea. 

KATE  BROWNLEE  SHERWOOD. 


OLD   GLORY  AT   SHILOH 

SPRING  on  the  Tennessee ;  April  —  and  flowers 
Bloom  on  its  banks ;  the  anemones  white 
In  clusters  of  stars  where  the  green  holly  towers 

O'er  bellworts,  like  butterflies  hov'ring  in  flight. 
The  ground  ivy  tips  its  blue  lips  to  the  laurel, 

And  covers  the  banks  of  the  water-swept  bars 
With  a  background  of  blue,  in  which  the  red  sorrel 
Are  stripes  where  the  pale  corydalis  are  stars. 

Red,  white  and  blue!     0  spring,  did  you  send  it, 
And  Flowers,  did'st  dream  it  for  brothers  to  rend  it  ? 

Spring  on  the  Tennessee ;   Sabbath  —  and  morning 

Breaks  with  a  bird  note  that  pulses  along ; 
A  melody  sobs  in  the  heart  of  its  dawning  - 

The  pain  that  foreshadows  the  birth  of  a  song. 
Art  thou  a  flecking,  brave  Bluebird,  of  sky  light,. 

Or  the  sough  of  a  minor  wove  into  a  beam  ? 
Oh,  Hermit  Thrush,  Hermit  Thrush,  thou  of  the  eye 
bright, 

Bird,  or  the  spirit  of  song  in  a  dream  ? 

"Our  country  —  our  country!"     Why,  birds,  do 

you  sing  it  ? 

And,  woodland,  why  held  you  the  echo,  to  ring  it? 
96 


OLD  GLORY  AT  SHILOH  97 

Spring  on  the  Tennessee ;  hark,  Bluebird,  listen ! 

Was  that  a  bugle  note  far  up  the  bend, 
Where  the  murk  waters  flush  and  the  white  bars 

glisten, 

Or  dove  cooing  dove  into  love  notes  that  blend  ? 
And  Wood  Thrush,  sweet,  tell  me,  —  that  throbbing 

and  humming, 
Is  it  march  at  the  double  quick  or  wild  bees  that 

hum? 
And  that  rumble  that  shakes  like  an  earthquake 

coming  - 
Tell  me,  0  Hermit  Thrush,  thunder  or  drum  ? 

0  birds,  you  must  fly  from  the  home  that  God  gave 

you! 
0  flowers,  you  must  die  'neath  the  foot  that  would 

save  you! 

Out  from  the  wood  with  the  morning  mist  o'er  it 
A  gray  line  sweeps  like  a  scythe  of  fire, 

And  it  burns  the  stubble  of  blue  before  it,  - 

(How  their  bugles  ring  and  their  cannon  roar  it !) 

In  Dixie  land  we'll  take  our  stand, 
And  live  and  die  in  Dixie ! 

Out  from  the  deep  wood  clearer  and  nigher, 
The  gray  lines  roll,  and  the  blue  lines  reel 

Back  on  the  river  —  their  dead  are  piled  higher 
Than  the  muzzle  of  muskets  thund'ring  their  peal : 


98    HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

In  Dixie  land  we'll  take  our  stand, 
And  live  and  die  for  Dixie  ! 

Noon  on  the  Tennessee ;  backward,  still  driven 
The  blue  lines  reel,  and  the  ranks  of  the  gray 

Flash  out  with  a  fierceness  that  light  up  the  heavens, 
When  the  thunders  of  night  meet  the  lightnings  of 
day. 

Noon  and  past  noon  —  and  this  is  the  story 
Of  the  flag  that  fell  not,  and  they  call  it  Old  Glory : 

It  flapped  in  the  air,  it  flashed  with  the  blare 

Of  the  bugles  so  shrill  and  so  true, 
It  faced  quick  about  and  steadied  the  rout 

And  halted  the  lines  of  blue. 
And  the  boom-boom-boom  of  the  maddened  guns 

Roared  round  it  thick  and  fast, 
And  dead-dead-dead  sang  the  learing  lead 

Like  hail  in  the  sheeted  blast, 
And  up  and  around  it,  surge  and  swell, 

Rose  the  victor  waves  of  the  rebel  yell, 
And  Grant's  grim  army  staggered,  but  stood, 
With  backs  to  the  river  and  dyed  it  with  blood 

In  the  shuttle  of  thunder  and  drum ; 
And  they  cheered  as  it  went  to  the  front  of  the 

fray 
And  turned  the  tide  at  the  sunset  of  day, 

And  they  whispered :  Buell  is  come ! 


OLD   GLORY  AT  SHILOH  99 

Spring  on  the  Tennessee ;  April  —  and  flowers 

Bloom  on  its  banks ;  the  anemones  white 
In  clusters  of  stars  where  the  green  holly  towers 

O'er  bellworts,  like  butterflies  hov'ring  in  flight. 
And  the  ground  ivy  tips  its  blue  lips  to  the  laurel 

And  covers  the  banks  and  the  water-swept  bars 
With  a  background  of  blue,  in  which  the  red  sorrel 

Are  stripes  where  the  pale  corydalis  are  stars. 

Red,  white,  and  blue  —  it  tells  its  own  story  - 
But,  Spring,  Who  made  it  and  named  it  Old 
Glory! 

JOHN  TROTWOOD  MOORE. 


THE  FLAG  OF  THE   CUMBERLAND 

THE  Confederate  frigate,  Merrimac,  newly 
arisen  from  her  briny  bath  in  the  Norfolk 
Navy  Yards,  with  her  sides  new  coated  in  an 
almost  impenetrable  mail  of  iron  and  rechristened 
the  Virginia,  steamed  slowly  down  the  river 
May  8th,  1862,  to  Newport  News,  where  the 
Cumberland,  the  Congress,  and  the  Minnesota 
of  the  Union  fleet  lay  at  anchor. 

The  crews  of  the  latter  vessels  were  taking  life 
leisurely  that  day,  and  were  indulging  in  various 
pastimes  beloved  of  seamen.  The  Merrimac  as 
she  hove  in  sight  did  not  look  especially  bellig- 
erent. Indeed  she  appeared  "like  a  house 
submerged  to  the  eaves  and  borne  onward  by 
the  flood." 

Notwithstanding  her  somewhat  droll  appear- 
ance, the  Merrimac  had  herself  well  in  control 
and  was  not  on  a  cruise  of  pleasure  bent,  as  the 
navies  well  knew. 

100 


THE  FLAG   OF  THE  CUMBERLAND     101 

With  steady  determination  she  came  on,  until 
within  easy  distance  of  the  Congress,  a  vessel  which 
gave  her  greeting  with  a  shot  from  one  of  her  stern 
guns,  and  received  in  response  a  shower  of  grape. 

Broadsides  were  then  exchanged,  resulting  in 
fearful  slaughter  to  the  crew  of  the  Congress  and 
damage  to  the  guns.  An  officer  of  the  Congress 
was  a  favorite  brother  of  Captain  Buchanan  of 
the  Merrimac.  But  such  relation  effected  naught 
in  the  exigencies  of  war. 

Before  the  Congress  could  recover  herself,  the 
Merrimac  headed  for  the  Cumberland.  The  fires 
of  the  Cumberland,  as  she  approached,  had  no 
effect  upon  her  armored  sides. 

Into  the  Cumberland  she  ran  her  powerful  iron 
prow,  crashing  in  her  timbers  and  strewing  her 
decks  with  the  maimed,  the  dead,  and  dying. 

Again  she  turned  her  attention  to  the  Congress, 
remembering  also  the  frigate  Minnesota  with 
her  fiery  baptisms.  Upon  the  Congress  she  soon 
forced  a  surrender.  The  Minnesota  found  refuge 
in  flight. 

Her  work  upon  the  Cumberland  was  complete. 
And  albeit  the  vessel  had  been  rammed  and  was 


AND    THE    FLAG,   AS    IP    DEFYING    THE    FATE    THAT    THREATENED 
ITS  DESTRUCTION,   STILL  FLEW  ABOVE  THE   MASTHEAD. 


THE  FLAG  OF  THE  CUMBERLAND    103 

sinking,  her  men  ascended  to  the  spar  deck  and 
fought  till  the  waters  engulfed  them.  The  last 
shot  was  fired  from  a  gun  half  submerged  in  the 
water. 

As  the  ship  settled  to  the  bottom  she  careened 
slightly  and  then  righted  herself;  and  the  flag, 
as  if  defying  the  fate  that  threatened  its  destruc- 
tion, still  flew  above  the  masthead. 

There,  close  to  the  waves  —  her  colors  almost 
touching  the  water  —  the  captain,  who  was 
absent  from  his  ship,  found  his  flag  upon  his 
return.  A  harbinger  as  it  proved  of  the  issue 
that  was  to  be. 


THE   CUMBERLAND 

AT  anchor  in  Hampton  Roads  we  lay, 
On  board  of  the  Cumberland,  sloop  of  war ; 
And  at  times  from  the  fortress  across  the  bay 
The  alarum  of  drums  swept  past, 
Or  a  bugle  blast 
From  the  camp  on  the  shore. 

Then  far  away  to  the  south  uprose 
A  little  feather  of  snow-white  smoke, 
And  we  knew  that  the  iron  ship  of  our  foes 
Was  steadily  steering  its  course 

To  try  the  force 

Of  our  ribs  of  oak. 

Down  upon  us  heavily  runs, 
Silent  and  sullen,  the  floating  fort ; 
Then  comes  a  puff  of  smoke  from  her  guns, 
And  leaps  the  terrible  death, 

With  fiery  breath, 

From  each  open  port. 

104 


THE   CUMBERLAND  105 

We  are  not  idle,  but  send  her  straight 
Defiance  back  in  a  full  broadside ! 
As  hail  rebounds  from  a  roof  of  slate, 
Rebounds  our  heavier  hail 

From  each  iron  scale 

Of  the  monster's  hide. 

"Strike  your  flag!"  the  rebel  cries, 
In  his  arrogant  old  plantation  strain. 
"Never!"  our  gallant  Morris  replies; 
"It  is  better  to  sink  than  to  yield  !" 

And  the  whole  air  pealed 

With  the  cheers  of  our  men. 

Then,  like  a  kraken  huge  and  black, 
She  crushed  our  ribs  in  her  iron  grasp ! 
Down  went  the  Cumberland  all  awrack, 
With  a  sudden  shudder  of  death, 

And  the  cannon's  breath 

For  her  dying  gasp. 

Next  morn,  as  the  sun  rose  over  the  bay, 
Still  floated  our  flag  at  the  mainmast  head 
Lord,  how  beautiful  was  Thy  day ! 
Every  waft  of  the  air 

Was  a  whisper  of  prayer, 

Or  a  dirge  for  the  dead. 


106     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

Ho !  brave  hearts  that  went  down  in  the  seas ! 
Ye  are  at  peace  in  the  troubled  stream ; 
Ho !  brave  land  !  with  hearts  like  these, 
Thy  flag,  that  is  rent  in  twain, 

Shall  be  one  again, 

And  without  a  seam ! 

HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


THE  MONITOR 

TWO  old  Spanish  ships  had,  prior  to  the  sink- 
ing of  the  Cumberland,  met  a  like  fate  at  the 
hands  of  the  Confederates ;  and  the  signal  success 
of  the  Merrimac  now  augured  well  for  the  break 
of  the  blockade. 

The  South  was  greatly  elated.  The  North 
was  disquieted. 

Twenty-four  hours  later  the  trend  of  events 
was  changed. 

There  appeared  in  Hampton  Roads  a  strange 
new  craft,  called  the  Monitor.  It  was  unlike  any 
vessel  before  seen,  having  a  revolving  round 
tower  of  iron,  that  enabled  the  gunners  to  train 
the  guns  on  the  enemy  continuously,  without 
regard  to  the  position  of  the  ship.  The  hull  had 
an  "overhang,"  a  projection  constructed  of  iron 
and  wood,  as  a  protection  against  rams. 

The  inventor  and  builder  of  this  little  giant 
was  John  Ericsson. 

107 


108     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

His, 

"  The  master  mind  that  wrought, 
With  iron  hand,  this  iron  thought. 
Strength  and  safety  with  speed  combined." 

The  vessel  had  been  launched  in  less  than  a 
hundred  days  after  the  laying  of  the  keel,  in  an 
effort  of  the  Federal  government  to  have  her  in 
service  before  the  completion  of  the  Merrimac 
(the  Virginia.} 

The  new  warship  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  navies  of  Europe  and  brought  about  a  change 
in  the  construction  of  war  vessels. 

As  if  indignant  at  the  actions  of  the  Merrimac 
in  preceding  her,  and  in  attacking  the  Union  fleet, 
the  Monitor  bore  down  upon  her  like  some  live 
thing  bent  upon  retribution,  and  at  once  engaged 
her  in  a  terrific  encounter. 

With  the  hope  born  of  confidence  in  the  strength 
of  the  Confederate  ironclad,  and  her  ability  to 
overpower  completely  the  Union  flotilla,  boats 
filled  with  sight-seers  had  gone  out  from  Norfolk, 
but  with  the  first  terrible  onset  of  the  armored 
combatants  speedily  made  their  way  back  to 
safety. 


THE  MONITOR  109 

In  this  battle  of  the  waters  two  old  Naval 
Academy  comrades  fought  on  opposite  sides, 
Lieutenant  Green  and  Lieutenant  Butt,  both 
well-known  names. 

For  five  long  awful  hours  the  strength  of  the 
two  iron  monsters  was  pitted  against  each  other 
for  supremacy  on  the  seas,  without  apparent 
serious  injury  to  either  vessel. 

At  last  the  Merrimac  ended  the  gigantic  contest 
by  turning  her  prow  and  withdrawing  to  Norfolk. 


THE  CRUISE   OF  THE   MONITOR 
Hampton  Roads,  Virginia,  March  9,  1862 

OUT  of  a  Northern  city's  bay, 
'Neath  lowering  clouds,  one  bleak  March  day, 
Glided  a  craft,  —  the  like  I  ween, 
On  ocean's  crest  was  never  seen 
Since  Noah's  float, 
That  ancient  boat, 
Could  o'er  a  conquered  deluge  gloat. 

No  raking  masts,  with  clouds  of  sail, 
Bent  to  the  breeze  or  braved  the  gale ; 
No  towering  chimney's  wreaths  of  smoke 
Betrayed  the  mighty  engine's  stroke ; 

But  low  and  dark, 

Like  the  crafty  shark, 
Moved  in  the  waters  this  novel  bark. 

The  fishers  stared  as  the  flitting  sprite 
Passed  their  huts  in  the  misty  light, 
Bearing  a  turret  huge  and  black, 
And  said,  "The  old  sea  serpent's  back 

110 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  MONITOR        111 

Carting  away, 
By  light  of  day, 
Uncle  Sam's  fort  from  New  York  bay." 

Forth  from  a  Southern  city's  dock 
Our  frigates'  strong  blockade  to  mock, 
Crept  a  monster  of  rugged  build, 
The  work  of  crafty  hands,  well  skilled  — 

Old  Merrimac, 

With  an  iron  back 
Wooden  ships  would  find  hard  to  crack. 

Straight  to  where  the  Cumberland  lay 
The  mail-clad  monster  made  its  way ; 
Its  deadly  prow  struck  deep  and  sure, 
And  the  hero's  fighting  days  were  o'er. 

Ah !  many  the  braves 

Who  found  their  graves 
With  that  good  ship  beneath  the  waves. 

Flushed  with  success,  the  victor  flew, 
Furious,  the  startled  squadron  through  ; 
Sinking,  burning,  driving  ashore, 
Until  the  Sabbath  day  was  o'er, 

Resting  at  night, 

To  renew  the  fight 
With  vengeful  ire  by  morning's  light. 


112     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

Out  of  its  den  it  burst  anew, 
When  the  gray  mist  the  sun  broke  through, 
Steaming  to  where,  in  clinging  sands, 
The  frigate  Minnesota  stands, 

A  sturdy  foe 

To  overthrow, 
But  in  woeful  plight  to  receive  a  blow. 

But  see !    beneath  her  bow  appears 
A  champion  no  danger  fears ; 
A  pigmy  craft,  that  seems  to  be, 
To  this  new  lord  that  rules  the  sea, 

Like  David  of  old 

To  Goliath  bold  - 
Youth  and  giant,  by  scripture  told. 

Round  the  roaring  despot  playing, 
With  willing  spirit  helm  obeying, 
Spurning  the  iron  against  it  hurled, 
While  belching  turret  rapid  whirled, 

And  swift  shots  seethe 

With  smoky  wreathe, 
Told  that  the  shark  was  showing  his  teeth. 

The  Monitor  fought.     In  grim  amaze 
The  Merrimacs  upon  it  gaze, 
Cowering  'neath  the  iron  hail, 
Crashing  into  their  coat  of  mail, 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  MONITOR       113 

They  swore,  "this  craft, 
The  devil's  shaft, 
Looked  like  a  cheese  box  on  a  raft." 

Hurrah !  little  giant  of  '  62 !    Bold  Worden  with  his 

gallant  crew 

Forces  the  fight ;  the  day  is  won ; 
Back  to  his  den  the  monster's  gone, 

With  crippled  claws 

And  broken  jaws, 
Defeated  in  a  reckless  cause. 

Hurrah  for  the  master  mind  that  wrought, 
With  iron  hand,  this  iron  thought ! 
Strength  and  safety  with  speed  combined, 
Ericsson's  gift  to  all  mankind ; 

To  curb  abuse, 

And  chains  to  loose, 
Hurrah  for  the  Monitor's  famous  cruise ! 

GEORGE  M.  BAKER. 


THE  NIGHT   OF  CHANTILLY 

IN  March,  1862,  McClellan  set  out  from  Wash- 
ington to  capture  the  Confederate  capital. 
At  Yorktown  he  was  held  in  check  for  a  month  by 
an  inferior  force  of  Confederates.  It  was  the 
last  of  May  before  he  reached  Fair  Oaks  (Seven 
Pines),  seven  miles  from  Richmond.  The  Con- 
federates here  attacked  him,  and  a  furious  battle 
of  two  days'  duration  ensued,  when  the  Con- 
federates were  driven  back.  A  notable  event 
of  this  engagement  was  the  appointment  of  Gen- 
eral Robert  E.  Lee,  as  commander  in  chief  of  the 
Confederate  armies;  in  place  of  General  Joseph 
E.  Johnston,  who  was  severely  wounded. 

One  of  the  most  conspicuous  figures  of  this 
battle  of  Fair  Oaks  was  General  Philip  Kearney. 

In  the  words  of  Stedman :  - 

"When  the  battle  went  ill,  and  the  bravest  were 

solemn :  - 

He  rode  down  the  length  of  the  withering  column, 
His  sword  waved  us  on  and  we  answered  the  sign. " 
114 


THE  NIGHT  OF  CHANTILLY  115 

"Kearney  was  the  bravest  man  and  the  most 
perfect  soldier  I  ever  saw,"  said  General  Scott. 
"A  man  made  for  the  profession  of  arms,"  says 
Rope.  "  In  the  field  he  was  always  ready,  always 
skillful,  always  brave,  always  untiring,  always 
hopeful,  and  always  vigilant  and  alert." 

He  distinguished  himself  in  the  War  with  Mexico, 
and  lost  an  arm  while  he  was  leading  cavalry 
troops  in  close  pursuit  of  the  retreating  Mexicans, 
at  the  battle  of  Churubusco,  when  they  retreated 
into  the  city  of  San  Antonio  itself. 

Mounted  upon  his  great  gray  steed,  "Mon- 
mouth,"  he  spurred  through  a  rampart,  felling 
the  Mexicans  as  he  went.  A  thousand  arms  were 
raised  to  strike  him,  a  thousand  sabers  glistened 
in  the  air,  when  he  hurriedly  fell  back,  but  too 
late  to  escape  the  wound  which  necessitated  the 
amputation  of  his  left  arm. 

At  Churubusco  ended  the  spectacular  career  of 
the  celebrated  San  Patricios  battalion  of  Irish 
deserters,  who  deserted  to  the  American  army  on 
the  Canadian  border  and  afterwards  deserted 
to  the  Mexicans  from  the  Texan  border,  fighting 
against  the  American  in  every  Mexican  war 


116     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

battle  of  consequence  from  Palo  Alto  to  Churu- 
busco.  After  capture  the  leaders  and  many  of 
the  men  were  court-martialed  and  shot;  their 
commander,  the  notorious  Thomas  Riley,  among 
the  latter.  The  survivors  were  branded  in  the 
cheek  with  the  letter  "D"  as  a  symbol  of  their 
treachery. 

General  Kearney  resigned  from  the  army  in  1851 
and  made  a  tour  of  the  world.  He  then  went  to 
France  and  fought  in  the  war  of  that  country 
against  Italy.  At  Magenta,  while  he  was  lead- 
ing the  daring  and  hazardous  charge  that  turned 
the  situation  and  won  Algiers  to  France,  he  charged 
with  the  bridle  in  his  teeth. 

For  his  bravery  he  received  the  Cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor,  being  the  first  American  thus 
honored. 

When  the  Civil  War  cloud  burst,  he  came  back 
to  the  United  States  and  was  made  brigadier 
general  in  the  Federal  army  and  given  the  com- 
mand of  the  First  New  Jersey  Brigade. 

His  timely  arrival  at  Williamsburg  saved  the 
day  for  the  Federals. 

In  the  engagement  at  Fair  Oaks, 


THE  NIGHT  OF  CHANTILLY  117 

"Where  the  red  volleys  poured,  where  the  clamor 

rose  highest, 

Where  the  aim  from  the  thicket  was  surest  and 
nighest," 

there  was  no  charge  like  Kearney's. 

"  How  he  strode  his  brown  steed !    How  we  saw  his 

blade  brighten, 

In  the  one  hand  still  left,  —  and  the  reins  in  his 
teeth!" 

General  Oliver  0.  Howard  lost  his  right  arm  in  this 
battle.  When  the  amputation  was  taking  place, 
he  looked  grimly  up  at  General  Kearney,  who  was 
present,  and  remarked,  "We'll  buy  our  gloves 
together,  after  this." 

At  Chantilly,  a  few  days  after  the  second  battle 
of  Bull  Run,  wherein  he  forced  the  gallant  Stone- 
wall Jackson  back,  he  penetrated  into  the  Con- 
federate lines  and  met  his  death. 

The  Confederates  had  won.  The  dusk  had 
fallen  and  General  Kearney  was  reconnoitering 
after  placing  his  division. 

"He  rode  right  into  our  men,"  feelingly  relates 
a  Confederate  soldier,  "then  stopping  suddenly, 
called  out, 


"WHAT  TROOPS  ABE  THESE?" 


THE   NIGHT  OF  CHANTILLY  119 

" '  What  troops  are  these  ? ' " 

Some  one  replied,  "Hays'  Mississippi  Brigade." 

He  turned  quickly  in  an  attempt  to  escape. 
A  shower  of  bullets  fell  about  him.  He  leaned 
forward  as  if  to  protect  himself,  but  a  ball  struck 
him  in  the  spine.  He  reeled  and  fell. 

Under  the  white  flag  of  truce,  General  Lee  sent  his 
remains  to  General  Hooker,  who  had  the  body 
transported  to  New  York,  where  it  was  interred 
with  becoming  honors. 

"Oh,  evil  the  black  shroud  of  night  of  Chantilly, 
That  hid  him  from  sight  of  his  brave  men  and  tried." 


KEARNEY  AT   SEVEN   PINES 

SO  that  soldierly  legend  is  still  on  its  journey,  — 
That  story  of  Kearney  who  knew  not  how  to 

yield ! 
'Twas  the  day  when  with  Jameson,  fierce  Berry,  and 

Birney, 

Against  twenty  thousand  he  rallied  the  field. 
Where  the  red  volleys  poured,  where  the  clamor  rose 

highest, 
Where  the  dead  lay  in  clumps  through  the  dwarf 

oak  and  pine, 
Where  the  aim  from  the  thicket  was  surest  and 

nighest,  - 
No  charge  like  Phil  Kearney's  along  the  whole  line. 

When  the  battle  went  ill,  and  the  bravest  were  solemn 
Near  the  dark  Seven  Pines,  where  we  still  held  our 

ground 

He  rode  down  the  length  of  the  withering  column, 
And  his  heart  at  our  war  cry  leapt  up  with  a  bound. 
He  snuffed  like  his  charger,  the  wind  of  the  powder,— 
His  sword  waved  us  on  and  we  answered  the  sign ; 
Loud  our  cheer  as  we  rushed,  but  his  laugh  rang  the 

louder, 

120 


KEARNEY  AT   SEVEN   PINES  121 

"There's  the  devil's  own  fun,  boys,  along  the  whole 
line!" 


How  he  strode  his  brown  steed !     How  we  saw  his 

blade  brighten, 
In  the  one  hand  still  left,  —  and  the  reins  in  his 

teeth! 

He  laughed  like  a  boy  when  the  holidays  heighten, 
But  a  soldier's  glance  shot  from  his  visor  beneath. 
Up  came  the  reserves  to  the  mellay  infernal, 
Asking  where  to  go  in,  —  through  the  clearing  or 

pine? 

"  0,  anywhere !  Forward  !  'Tis  all  the  same,  Colonel ! 
You'll  find  lovely  fighting  along  the  whole  line !" 

Oh,  evil  the  black  shroud  of  night  of  Chantilly, 
That  hid  him  from  sight  of  his  brave  men  and  tried ! 
Foul,  foul  sped  the  bullet  that  clipped  the  white  lily, 
The  flower  of  our  knighthood,  the  whole  army's 

pride ! 

Yet  we  dream  that  he  still,  —  in  that  shadowy  region 
Where  the  dead  form  their  ranks  at  the  wan  drum- 
mer's sign,  - 

Rides  on,  as  of  old,  down  the  length  of  his  legion, 
And  the  word  still  is  "Forward!"  along  the  whole 
line. 

EDMUND  CLARENCE  STEDMAN. 


THE   CAVALRY  CHARGE 

WITH  bray  of  the  trumpet 
And  roll  of  the  drum, 
And  keen  ring  of  bugle, 

The  cavalry  come. 
Sharp  clank  the  steel  scabbards 

The  bridle  chains  ring, 

And  foam  from  red  nostrils 

The  wild  chargers  fling. 

Tramp !  tramp !  o'er  the  greensward 

That  quivers  below, 
Scarce  held  by  the  curb  bit 

The  fierce  horses  go ! 
And  the  grim-visaged  colonel, 

With  ear-rending  shout, 
Peals  forth  to  the  squadrons 

The  order:  "Trot  out!" 

One  hand  on  the  saber, 

And  one  on  the  rein, 
The  troopers  move  forward 

In  line  on  the  plain. 
122 


THE   CAVALRY  CHARGE  123 

As  rings  the  word,  "Gallop !" 

The  steel  scabbards  clank ; 
As  each  rowel  is  pressed 

To  a  horse's  hot  flank ; 
And  swift  is  their  rush 

And  the  wild  torrents  flow, 
When  it  pours  from  the  crag 

On  the  valley  below. 

"Charge!"  thunders  the  leader; 

Like  shaft  from  the  bow 
Each  mad  horse  is  hurled 

On  the  wavering  foe. 
A  thousand  bright  sabers 

Are  gleaming  in  air ; 
A  thousand  dark  horses 

Are  dashed  on  the  square. 
Resistless  and  reckless 

Of  aught  may  betide, 
Like  demons,  not  mortals 

The  wild  troopers  ride. 
Cut  right !  and  cut  left ! 

For  the  parry  who  needs  ? 
The  bayonets  shiver 

Like  wind-scattered  reeds. 

Vain  —  vain  the  red  volley 
That  bursts  from  the  square,  — 


124     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD  LGLORY 

The  random-shot  bullets 

Are  wasted  in  air. 
Triumphant,  remorseless, 

Unerring  as  death,  - 
No  saber  that's  stainless 

Returns  to  its  sheath. 
The  wounds  that  are  dealt 

By  that  murderous  steel 
Will  never  yield  case 

For  the  surgeon  to  heal. 
Hurrah  !  they  are  broken  — 

Hurrah  !  boys,  they  fly ! 
None  linger  save  those 

Who  but  linger  to  die. 

Rein  up  your  hot  horses 

And  call  in  your  men,  - 
The  trumpet  sounds,  "Rally 

To  colors ! "   again. 
Some  saddles  are  empty, 

Some  comrades  are  slain 
And  some  noble  horses 

Lie  stark  on  the  plain  : 
But  war's  a  chance  game,  boys, 

And  weeping  is  vain. 

FRANCIS  A.  DURIVAGE. 


AN   IMMORTAL  TWAIN 

IT  is  a  coincidence  worthy  of  note,  and  hereto- 
fore unremarked  by  historians,  that,  as  in  the 
hour  of  birth  of  the  National  Flag  there  was 
given  to  posterity  the  name  of  a  great  Revolu- 
tionary hero,  the  hour  of  birth  of  the  Confederate 
Battle  Emblem  immortalized  the  name  of  a  hero 
of  the  Confederacy. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  that  hard- 
fought  battle  of  Manassas  (Bull  Run),  July  21, 
1861,  the  Federals  were  thinning  out  the  lines  in 
gray.  Now  they  were  directing  their  efforts 
against  the  wings  of  Jackson  and  Beauregard. 
Jackson's  solemn  visage  was  growing  more  solemn  ; 
Beauregard  was  anxiously  scanning  the  land- 
scape beyond,  in  the  hope  of  discovering  the 
approach  of  badly  needed  reinforcements. 

Over  the  hill  a  long  line  was  seen  advancing. 
The  day  was  hot  and  dry  and  not  a  leaf  stirred 
in  the  dust-laden  air.  Clouds  of  smoke  and  grime 

125 


GENERAL  BEAUREGARD  RAISED  HIS  GLASS  AND  SURVEYED 
THEM  CRITICALLY. 


AN   IMMORTAL  TWAIN  127 

enveloped  the  advancing  troops  and  obscured 
their  colors.  General  Beauregard  raised  his  glass 
and  surveyed  them  critically. 

He  then  called  an  officer  and  instructed  him  to 
go  to  General  Johnston  and  inform  him  that  the 
enemy  was  receiving  reinforcements  and  it  might 
be  wise  for  him  to  withdraw  to  another  point. 
Still,  he  was  not  fully  assured  that  the  coming 
troops  were  Federals!  The  flag  hung  limp  and 
motionless  and  could  not  be  accurately  discerned. 

If  these  were  Federals  the  day  was  surely  lost. 
But  if  they  were  Confederates  there  was  a  fight- 
ing chance  to  win. 

He  determined  to  hold  his  position,  and  called 
out, 

"What  troops  are  those?" 

No  one  could  tell.  Just  then  a  gust  of  wind 
spread  the  colors.  The  flag  was  the  Stars  and 
Bars  — General  Early's  brigade,  not  a  moment 
too  soon. 

"We  must  have  a  more  distinct  flag,"  an- 
nounced General  Beauregard  vehemently,  in  in- 
finite relief:  "One  that  we  can  recognize  when 
we  see  it." 


128     HOW  THE   FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

In  that  instant  was  conceived  the  Confederate 
Battle  Flag,  used  thereafter  throughout  the  Civil 
strife. 

After  the  battle,  the  design  —  St.  Andrew's 
Cross  —  was  submitted  by  General  Beauregard, 
and,  approved  by  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston, 
was  adopted  by  the  Confederate  Congress. 

"Conceived  on  the  field  of  battle,  it  lived  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  was  proudly  borne  on  every 
field  from  Manassas  to  Appomattox." 

The  Confederates  were  routed  and  running  in 
disorder.  General  Jackson  was  standing  immov- 
able. General  Bee  rode  to  his  side.  "They  will 
beat  us  back!" 

"No,  Sir,"  replied  Jackson,  "we  will  give  them 
the  bayonet." 

General  Bee  rode  back  to  his  brigade.  "Look 
at  Jackson,"  said  he,  "standing  there  like  a 
stone  wall.  Rally  behind  him."  With  this  his 
brigade  fell  into  line. 

Early's  troops  arrived  and  formed.  The 
Federals  were  beaten  into  a  tumultuous  retreat 
that  never  slacked  until  Centerville  was  reached. 


AN   IMMORTAL  TWAIN  129 

From  that  day  the  name  "Stonewall"  at- 
tached to  Thomas  Jonathan  Jackson  and  was 
peculiarly  appropriate  as  indicating  the  adaman- 
tine, unyielding  character  of  the  man. 

The  motto  of  his  life  was :  "A  man  can  do  what 
he  wills  to  do,"  and  in  his  resolves  he  depended 
for  guidance  upon  Divine  leading.  He  tried 
always  to  throw  a  religious  atmosphere  about  his 
men ;  and  out  of  respect  to  his  feelings,  if  for  no 
other  reason,  they  often  refrained  from  evil.  His 
mount  was  a  little  sorrel  horse,  that  the  men 
affirmed  was  strikingly  like  him  as  it  could  not 
run  except  towards  the  enemy. 

The  ardent  love  of  his  troops  for  him  made  the 
tragedy  of  his  death  the  more  deplorable.  Mis- 
taking him  for  the  enemy  as  he  was  returning 
from  the  front,  in  the  gathering  darkness  at 
Chancellorsville,  May,  1863,  his  own  men  shot 
him,  —  shot  him  down  with  victory  in  his  grasp. 

The  whole  country  was  horror-struck.  Friend 
and  foe  alike  paused  in  sympathy  at  such  a  situa- 
tion. 

To  the  Southern  cause  it  was  more  than  the 
taking  off  of  a  leader ;  it  was  an  irreparable  loss. 


130     HOW   THE   FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

By  his  death  was  left  a  gap  in  the  Confederate 
ranks  that  no  one  else  could  fill. 

Prior  to  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  Jackson 
had  been  unknown,  but  in  the  two  years  of  his 
service  he  accomplished  more  than  any  other 
officer  on  his  side.  He  saved  Richmond  from 
early  fall  by  keeping  the  Union  forces  apart, 
until  he  was  joined  by  Lee,  when  together  they 
drove  McClellan  from  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
Confederate  Capital  and  cleared  the  James  River 
of  gunboats. 

In  his  report  from  Chancellorsville,  General 
Robert  E.  Lee  pays  tribute  to  the  illustrious  officer 
thus :  — 

"  The  movement  by  which  the  enemy's  position 
was  turned  and  the  fortune  of  the  day  decided, 
was  conducted  by  the  lamented  Lieutenant 
General  Jackson,  who,  as  has  already  been  stated, 
was  severely  wounded  near  the  close  of  the  engage- 
ment Saturday  evening.  I  do  not  propose  here 
to  speak  of  the  character  of  this  illustrious  man, 
since  removed  from  the  scene  of  his  eminent  use- 
fulness, by  the  hand  of  an  inscrutable  but  all-wise 
Providence.  I  nevertheless  desire  to  pay  the 


AN   IMMORTAL  TWAIN  131 

tribute  of  my  admiration  to  the  matchless  energy 
and  skill  that  marked  this  last  act  of  his  life, 
forming  as  it  did  a  worthy  conclusion  of  that  long 
series  of  splendid  achievements  which  won  for 
him  the  lasting  love  and  gratitude  of  his  country. 

"  R.  E.  LEE. 
"  GENERAL  S.  COOPER, 

"  Adjt.  and  Insp.  Gen.  C.  S.  Army, 
"  Richmond,  Va." 


NOT  midst  the  lightning  of  the  stormy  fight, 
Nor  in  the  rush  upon  the  vandal  foe, 
Did  Kingly  Death  with  his  resistless  might 
Lay  the  great  leader  low. 

His  warrior  soul  its  earthly  shackles  broke 
In  the  full  sunshine  of  a  peaceful  town ; 

When  all  the  storm  was  hushed,  the  trusty  oak 
That  propped  our  cause  went  down. 

Though  his  alone  the  blood  that  flecks  the  ground, 
Recalling  all  his  grand  heroic  deeds, 

Freedom  herself  is  writhing  in  the  wound 
And  all  the  country  bleeds. 

He  entered  not  the  Nation's  Promised  Land, 
At  the  red  belching  of  the  cannon's  mouth 

But  broke  the  House  of  Bondage  with  his  hand, 
The  Moses  of  the  South ! 

0  gracious  God !    not  gainless  is  the  loss ; 

A  glorious  sunbeam  gilds  thy  sternest  frown, 
And  while  his  country  staggers  neath  the  Cross, 

He  rises  with  the  Crown. 

HENRY  LYNDEN  FLASH. 

132 


THE   HIGH  TIDE  AT   GETTYSBURG 

A  CLOUD  possessed  the  hollow  field, 
The  gathering  battle's  smoky  shield : 
Athwart  the  gloom  the  lightning  flashed, 
And  through  the  cloud  some  horsemen  dashed, 
And  from  the  heights  the  thunder  pealed. 

Then,  at  the  brief  command  of  Lee, 
Moved  out  that  matchless  infantry, 
With  Pickett  leading  grandly  down, 
To  rush  against  the  roaring  crown, 
Of  those  dread  heights  of  destiny. 

Far  heard  above  the  angry  guns 

A  cry  across  the  tumult  runs,  - 

The  voice  that  rang  through  Shiloh's  woods 

And  Chickamauga's  solitudes, 

The  fierce  South  cheering  on  her  sons ! 

Ah,  how  the  withering  tempest  blew 
Against  the  front  of  Pettigrew ! 
A  Khamsin  wind  that  scorched  and  singed 
Like  that  infernal  flame  that  fringed 
The  British  squares  at  Waterloo ! 
133 


134     HOW  THE   FLAG   BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

A  thousand  fell  where  Kemper  led ; 
A  thousand  died  where  Garnett  bled : 
In  blinding  flame  and  strangling  smoke 
The  remnant  through  the  batteries  broke 
And  crossed  the  works  with  Armistead. 

"Once  more  in  Glory's  van  with  me !" 
Virginia  cried  to  Tennessee ; 
"We  two  together,  come  what  may, 
Shall  stand  upon  these  works  today ! " 
(The  reddest  day  in  history.) 

Brave  Tennessee !     In  reckless  way 
Virginia  heard  her  comrade  say : 
"Close  round  this  rent  and  riddled  rag !" 
What  time  she  set  her  battle-flag 
Amid  the  guns  of  Doubleday. 

But  who  shall  break  the  guards  that  wait 
Before  the  awful  face  of  Fate? 
The  tattered  standards  of  the  South 
Were  shriveled  at  the  cannon's  mouth, 
And  all  her  hopes  were  desolate. 

In  vain  the  Tennesseean  set 
His  breast  against  the  bayonet ; 
In  vain  Virginia  charged  and  raged, 
A  tigress  in  her  wrath  uncaged, 
Till  all  the  hill  was  red  and  wet. 


136     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

Above  the  bayonets,  mixed  and  crossed, 
Men  saw  a  gray,  gigantic  ghost 
Receding  through  the  battle-cloud, 
And  heard  across  the  tempest  loud 
The  death-cry  of  a  nation  lost ! 

The  brave  went  down  !     Without  disgrace 
They  leaped  to  Ruin's  red  embrace ; 
They  only  heard  Fame's  thunders  wake, 
And  saw  the  dazzling  sun-burst  break 
In  smiles  on  Glory's  bloody  face ! 

They  fell,  who  lifted  up  a  hand 
And  bade  the  sun  in  heaven  to  stand ; 
They  smote  and  fell,  who  set  the  bars 
Against  the  progress  of  the  stars, 
And  stayed  the  march  of  Motherland ! 

They  stood,  who  saw  the  future  come 
On  through  the  fight's  delirium  ; 
They  smote  and  stood,  who  held  the  hope 
Of  nations  on  that  slippery  slope 
Amid  the  cheers  of  Christendom. 

God  lives !     He  forged  the  iron  will 
That  clutched  and  held  the  trembling  hill ! 
God  lives  and  reigns !   He  built  and  lent 
The  heights  for  freedom's  battlement 
Where  floats  her  flag  in  triumph  still ! 


THE  HIGH   TIDE  AT  GETTYSBURG      137 

Fold  up  the  banners !    Smelt  the  guns ! 
Love  rules.     Her  gentler  purpose  runs. 
A  mighty  mother  turns  in  tears 
The  pages  of  her  battle  years, 
Lamenting  all  her  fallen  sons ! 

WILL  HENRY  THOMPSON. 


UNITED 

ALL  day  it  shook  the  land  —  grim  battle's  thun- 
der tread ; 
And  fields  at  morning  green,  at  eve  are  trampled 

red. 
But  now,  on  the  stricken  scene,  twilight  and  quiet 

fall; 

Only,  from  hill  to  hill,  night's  tremulous  voices  call ; 
And  comes  from  far  along,  where  camp  fires  warning 

burn, 
The  dread,  hushed  sound  which  tells  of  morning's 

sad  return. 

Timidly  nature  awakens;   the  stars  come  out  over- 
head, 

And  a  flood  of  moonlight  breaks  like  a  voiceless 
prayer  for  the  dead. 

And   steals  the   blessed   wind,   like   Odin's  fairest 
daughter, 

In  viewless  ministry,  over  the  fields  of  slaughter ; 

Soothing  the  smitten  life,  easing  the  pang  of  death, 

And  bearing  away  on  high  the  passing  warrior's 
breath. 

138 


UNITED  139 

Two  youthful  forms  are  lying  apart  from  the  thick- 
est fray, 
The  one  in  Northern  blue,  the  other  in  Southern 

gray. 
Around  his  lifeless  foeman  the  arms  of  each  are 

pressed, 
And  the  head  of  one  is  pillowed  upon  the  other's 

breast. 
As  if  two  loving  brothers,  wearied  with  work  and 

play, 
Had  fallen  asleep  together,  at  close  of  the  summer 

day. 
Foemen    were    they,   and    brothers  ?  —  Again   the 

battle's  din, 
With    its    sullen,    cruel    answer,    from    far    away 

breaks  in. 

BENJAMIN  SLEDD. 


OLD   HEART   OF  OAK 

TO  the  Navy  is  ascribed  the  larger  shares  in 
the  Civil  War,  of  overcoming  the  prowess 
of  the  South.  "The  blockade  sapped  the  indus- 
trial strength  of  the  Confederacy." 

A  powerful  factor  in  this  blockade  was  David  G. 
Farragut.  Farragut  was  a  Southerner  by  birth — 
a  Tennessean  —  and  fought,  as  it  were,  against 
his  own  hearthstone.  Yet,  when  it  is  considered 
that  from  early  youth  he  was  in  the  marine  serv- 
ice of  the  government  and  by  arms  upheld  the 
national  flag,  and  when  it  is  remembered  with 
what  reverence  the  seaman  regards  the  flag  under 
which  he  serves,  his  choice  is  not  surprising. 

Scenes  wherein  men  fought  and  died  for  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  and  often  with  their  dying  breath 
expressing  adoration  of  the  nation's  emblem  were 
common  experiences  of  his  life. 

In  his  memoirs  is  related  a  pathetic  story  of  a 
youth's  death  from  accidental  shooting.  "Put 

140 


OLD   HEART  OF  OAK  141 

me  in  the  boat,"  implored  he  of  his  comrades, 
"that  I  may  die  under  my  country's  flag."  An- 
other, a  young  Scotchman,  who  had  a  leg  cut  off 
in  battle,  cried  out  mournfully,  "I  can  no  longer 
be  of  use  to  the  flag  of  my  adoption,"  and  threw 
himself  overboard. 

The  necessity  of  choosing  between  the  North 
and  the  South  brought  Farragut  many  sleepless 
nights  and  forced  him  between  the  fires  of  censure 
from  the  South  and  doubt  of  his  fealty  from  the 
North,  as  it  was  recognized  that  the  Southern 
man,  as  a  rule,  felt  that  his  first  allegiance  was 
due  to  his  State. 

When  he  was  but  a  lad  of  seven  years,  Farragut 
lost  his  mother  and  was  adopted  by  his  father's 
friend,  that  fighting  old  Commodore  David 
Porter,  who  was  destined  to  raise  both  his  adopted 
and  his  own  son  to  become  admirals  in  the  United 
States  Navy. 

For  little  Dave  Farragut  the  sea  had  always  a 
wonderful  fascination,  and  at  the  age  of  twelve  he 
was  made  a  midshipman  on  the  Essex,  a  warship 
of  1812.  The  Essex  one  day  captured  a  whaling 
vessel,  and  Captain  Porter  placed  David  in  charge 


142     HOW  THE   FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

to  steer  her  across  the  Pacific.  The  captain  of 
the  whaler,  when  clear  of  the  Essex,  thought  to 
regain  his  vessel  from  the  boy,  by  countermanding 
his  orders.  He  threatened  to  shoot  any  sailor 
who  dared  to  disobey  him.  Right  here,  the 
mettle  that  was  to  make  Farragut  the  head  of  the 
American  navy  and  the  idol  of  the  American 
people  manifested  itself.  He  repeated  his  order 
at  first  given;  and  when  the  mutinous  captain 
appeared  from  below  decks  where  he  had  gone 
for  his  pistols,  he  was  told  by  the  youthful  com- 
mander that  he  would  have  to  stay  below  or  be 
thrown  overboard.  He  chose  the  former. 

To  this  same  dauntless  spirit,  the  Federal 
government  owed  the  blockade  of  the  lower 
Mississippi  and  the  closing  of  the  ports  of  Mobile 
Bay,  that  inflicted  such  injuries  upon  the  Confed- 
eracy as  to  hasten  the  end  of  the  war.  "With 
ports  closed,"  says  an  authority,  "the  Southern 
armies  were  reduced  to  a  pitiful  misery,  the  long 
endurance  of  which  makes  a  noble  chapter  in 
heroism." 

The  lower  Mississippi  was  controlled  by  the 
Confederates.  Possession  of  the  river  and  the 


OLD   HEART  OF  OAK  143 

capture  of  New  Orleans  could  be  accomplished 
only  by  running  the  forts  situated  below  the  city 
some  seventy  miles.  To  run  the  forts  with  wooden 
vessels  and  escape  destruction  from  the  armed 
vessels  of  the  Confederacy  in  the  Mississippi 
was  a  hazardous  undertaking.  Farragut  believed 
he  could  do  this.  In  December,  1861,  he  wrote  to 
a  friend:  "Keep  your  lips  closed  and  burn  my 
letters.  Perfect  silence  is  the  first  injunction  of 
the  Secretary.  I  am  to  have  a  flag  in  the  gulf, 
and  the  rest  depends  upon  myself." 

In  March  he  again  wrote,  "  I  have  now  attained 

what  I  have  been  looking  for  all  my  life  —  a  flag 

-and  having  attained  it,  all  that  is  necessary 

to  complete  the  scene  is  a  victory."    The  victory 

he  was  soon  to  have. 

At  two  o'clock  the  morning  of  April  24,  1862, 
the  signal  for  the  start  for  the  forts  was  given. 
In  a  few  moments  the  thunderous  roar  of  .batteries 
and  guns  broke  upon  the  air.  The  river  became 
a  mass  of  writhing  flame. 

"The  passing  of  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Phillips 
was  one  of  the  most  awful  sights  and  events  I 
ever  saw  or  expect  to  experience,"  says  Farragut. 


144     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

Rafts  of  cotton  were  set  on  fire  by  the  Confeder- 
ates and  came  down  the  river,  scattering  disaster 
as  they  came.  One  of  these  caught  the  Hartford, 
Farragut's  flagship,  and  set  it  on  fire.  So  high 
rose  the  flames  that  even  the  courageous  com- 
mander was  for  the  moment  daunted  and  ex- 
claimed, "My  God!  is  this  to  end  this  way!" 
By  the  expeditious  use  of  the  hose  the  flames 
were  controlled. 

The  strong  barriers  across  the  river  were  broken. 
By  repeated  and  desperate  efforts  the  Confederate 
boats  were  sunk  or  disabled.  The  levee  at  New 
Orleans  was  gained.  The  Crescent  City  was 
taken. 

Thus  was  accomplished  a  feat  in  naval  warfare 
reckoned  without  a  parallel  in  naval  history, 
except  in  that  of  twenty-four  months  later  in 
Mobile  Bay.  In  compliment  to  his  exploit  the 
rank  of  rear  admiral  was  conferred  upon  Farra- 
gut.  Of  the  fleet,  as  subordinate  officers,  were 
Dewey  and  Schley,  a  future  admiral  and  a  rear- 
admiral. 

To  his  home,  the  victorious  commander  ad- 
dressed the  following  letter :  — 


OLD   HEART  OF  OAK  145 

"My  dearest  Wife  and  Boy. 

"  I  am  so  agitated  I  can  scarcely  write,  and  I 
shall  only  tell  you  that  it  has  pleased  Almighty 
God  to  preserve  my  life  through  a  fire  such  as  the 
world  has  scarcely  known." 

When  the  ships  lay  safely  at  the  levee  with  but 
one  of  the  squadron  lost,  Farragut  by  note  re- 
quested the  mayor  of  New  Orleans  to  remove  the 
Confederate  flag  and  to  surrender  the  city  for- 
mally. In  curt  terms  the  doughty  mayor  refused 
to  do  so,  stating  there  was  not  in  the  city  of  New 
Orleans  a  man  who  would  take  down  that  flag. 
Then  ensued  a  most  unique  correspondence 
between  the  two,  through  which  Farragut  made 
himself  misunderstood  to  the  extent  that  it  was 
rumored  that  it  was  his  intention  to  turn  the  guns 
on  the  city.  At  the  expiration  of  forty-eight  hours, 
however,  an  officer  of  the  fleet  removed  the  of- 
fending flag  and  hoisted  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
over  the  city  hall. 

To  injure  purposely  the  defenseless,  as  in 
turning  the  guns  on  the  city,  was  not  in  keeping 
with  the  nature  of  David  Farragut  as  revealed 
in  history.  Power  combined  with  gentleness 


146     HOW  THE   FLAG   BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

were  the  marked  traits  of  his  character.  This 
gentleness  had  its  finest  reflex  in  his  delicate 
attentions  to  his  invalid  wife.  In  the  presence 
of  her  continuous  suffering  his  warrior  nature 
was  laid  aside,  and  his  chivalric  kindness  shone 
forth  in  acts  of  rare  devotion  and  tender 
care. 

When  he  was  asked  one  day,  as  to  his  feelings 
during  a  battle  in  seeing  men  fall  writhing  upon 
every  side,  he  answered,  "I  thought  of  nothing 
but  the  working  of  the  guns ;  but  after  the  battle, 
when  I  saw  the  mangled  bodies  of  my  shipmates, 
dead  and  dying,  groaning  and  expiring  often  with 
the  most  patriotic  sentiments  upon  their  lips, 
I  became  faint  and  sick.  My  sympathies  were 
all  aroused."  Markedly  noticeable  in  his  letters 
is  the  absence  of  self-elation  over  his  victories. 
There  are,  rather,  a  rejoicing  in  the  advancement 
of  his  cause  and  gratitude  to  the  Almighty  for 
preservation.  In  this  we  read  anew  the  lesson 
of  true  greatness. 

Just  prior  to  entering  into  the  noted  action  of 
Mobile  Bay,  he  wrote  his  son  respecting  his  views 
of  duty  and  death.  "He  who  dies  in  doing  his 


148     HOW   THE   FLAG   BECAME  OLD  GLORY 

duty  to  his  country,  and  at  peace  with  his  God, 
has  played  out  the  drama  of  life  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage." Shortly  after  this  was  penned,  the 
Hartford  was  steaming  into  Mobile  Bay,  under 
the  heavy  fire  of  guns  of  Fort  Morgan  and  Fort 
Gaines,  in  the  execution  of  a  naval  feat  that  at- 
tracted the  attention  and  admiration  of  the 
whole  civilized  world. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  bay  the  two  islands  upon 
which  the  forts  stood  were  less  than  a  mile  apart. 
The  passage  had  been  strewn  with  torpedoes  by 
the  Confederates,  and  only  a  narrow  strip  of 
water  was  left  clear.  Through  this  strip  went 
Farragut's  fleet :  the  Tecumseh  first,  the  Brooklyn 
next,  the  Hartford  third.  Suddenly  the  prow 
of  the  Tecumseh  lifted :  she  veered  and  sank. 
The  Brooklyn  backed  and  held  Farragut's  ship 
directly  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Morgan.  Shot 
and  shell  hurtled  in  the  air.  The  smoke  grew 
dense.  The  fire  from  the  cannons  lit  the  heavens. 
Men  shouted  and  fell. 

"What's  the  matter!"  called  Farragut. 

"Torpedoes,"  some  one  answered. 

Never  a  profane  man,  he  now  gave  vent  to  an 


OLD   HEART  OF   OAK  149 

oath,  and  cried  out,  "Full  speed,  Jouett.    Four 
bells,  Captain  Dray  ton." 

The  Hartford  steamed  to  the  front.  The 
torpedoes  crackled  under  her  as  she  sped  on ;  but 
the  forts  were  passed.  And  high  in  the  rigging 
of  his  ship,  in  full  view  of  the  enemy  and  imminent 
danger  of  the  fiery  missiles,  was  seen  Farragut, 
whence  he  directed  all  the  ships'  maneuvers. 
An  officer,  observing  him  standing  there,  feared 
lest  a  shot  would  cause  his  fall,  and  carried  a  rope 
and  lashed  him  to  the  mast. 

In  maddened  fury  the  ironclad  Tennessee 
plunged  straight  at  the  Hartford.  All  the  fleet 
bore  down  upon  the  Confederate  ship.  And 
crowding  together,  the  Lackawanna,  needing 
room,  struck  the  flagship  by  accident,  and  came 
near  striking  the  commander.  Against  the 
Tennessee  every  Federal  ship  now  redoubled  her 
efforts,  until,  battered  and  bruised  and  despairing, 
she  struck  her  colors. 

The  captain  of  the  Tennessee  was  Buchanan, 
the  same  who  commanded  the  Merrimac  in  her 
fight  with  the  Monitor  in  Hampton  Roads.  "  The 
Tennessee  and  Buchanan  are  my  prisoners," 


150     HOW  THE   FLAG   BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

wrote  Farragut  home.  "He  has  lost  a  leg.  It 
was  a  hard  fight,  but  Buck  met  his  fate  manfully." 
Fort  Morgan  and  Fort  Gaines  surrendered  and 
Farragut's  fierce  conflicts  were  at  an  end.  Nearly 
so  was  his  path  of  life.  Congress  honored  him 
with  the  rank  of  admiral,  the  highest  honor  to  be 
conferred.  America  and  foreign  nations  extended 
him  the  most  distinguishing  courtesies.  And 
then  —  the  unseen  Pilot  steered  his  course  across 
the  unknown  sea  unto  the  harbor  of  the  city 
Eternal. 


FARRAGUT 

FARRAGUT,  Farragut, 
Old  Heart  of  Oak, 
Daring  Dave  Farragut, 
Thunderbolt  stroke, 
Watches  the  hoary  mist 

Lift  from  the  bay, 
Till  his  flag,  glory-kissed, 
Greets  the  young  day. 

Far,  by  gray  Morgan's  walls, 

Looms  the  black  fleet. 
Hark,  deck  to  rampart  calls 

With  the  drums'  beat ! 
Buoy  your  chains  overboard, 

While  the  steam  hums ; 
Men !  to  the  battlement, 

Farragut  comes. 

See,  as  the  hurricane 

Hurtles  in  wrath 
Squadrons  of  clouds  amain 

Back  from  its  path ! 

151 


152     HOW  THE   FLAG   BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

Back  to  the  parapet, 

To  the  gun's  lips, 
Thunderbolt  Farragut 

Hurls  the  black  ships. 

Now  through  the  battle's  roar 

Clear  the  boy  sings, 
"By  the  mark  fathoms  four," 

While  his  lead  swings. 
Steadily  the  wheelmen  five 

"Nor'  by  East  keep  her." 
"Steady,"  but  two  alive: 

How  the  shells  sweep  her ! 

Lashed  to  the  mast  that  sways 

Over  red  decks, 
Over  the  flame  that  plays 

Round  the  torn  wrecks, 
Over  the  dying  lips 

Framed  for  a  cheer, 
Farragut  leads  his  ships, 

Guides  the  line  clear. 

On  by  heights  cannon-browed, 

While  the  spars  quiver ; 
Onward  still  flames  the  cloud 

Where  the  hulls  shiver. 


FARRAGUT  153 

See,  yon  fort's  star  is  set, 

Storm  and  fire  past. 
Cheer  him,  lads  —  Farragut, 

Lashed  to  the  mast ! 

Oh  !  while  Atlantic's  breast 

Bears  a  white  sail, 
While  the  Gulf's  towering  crest 

Tops  a  green  vale, 
Men  thy  bold  deeds  shall  tell, 

Old  Heart  of  Oak, 
Daring  Dave  Farragut, 

Thunderbolt  stroke ! 

WILLIAM  TUCKEY  MEREDITH. 
August,  1864. 


PINE  AND   PALM 

(GRANT  AND  LEE) 

Charles  Francis  Adams  in  address  before  Chicago 
Chapter  of  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  June  17,  1902. 

I  NOW  come  to  what  I  have  always  regarded 
-  shall  ever  regard  as  the  most  creditable 
episode  in  all  American  history,  —  an  episode 
without  a  blemish,  —  imposing,  dignified,  simple, 
heroic.  I  refer  to  Appomattox.  Two  men  met 
that  day,  representative  of  American  civilization, 
the  whole  world  looking  on.  The  two  were 
Grant  and  Lee,  —  types  each.  Both  rose,  and 
rose  unconsciously,  to  the  full  height  of  the  occa- 
sion, —  and  than  that  occasion  there  has  been 
none  greater.  About  it  and  them,  there  was  no 
theatrical  display,  no  self-consciousness,  no  effort 
at  effect.  A  great  crisis  was  to  be  met ;  and  they 
met  that  crisis  as  great  countrymen  should. 
That  month  of  April  saw  the  close  of  exactly 

154 


PINE  AND   PALM  155 

four  years  of  persistent  strife,  —  a  strife  which 
the  whole  civilized  world  had  been  watching 
intently.  Then,  suddenly,  came  the  dramatic 
climax  at  Appomattox,  dramatic  I  say,  not 
theatrical,  —  severe  in  its  simple,  sober,  matter- 
of-fact  majesty.  The  world,  I  again  assert,  has 
seen  nothing  like  it ;  and  the  world,  instinctively, 
was  at  the  time  conscious  of  the  fact.  I  like  to 
dwell  on  the  familiar  circumstances  of  the  day; 
on  its  momentous  outcome;  on  its  far-reaching 
results.  It  affords  one  of  the  greatest  educational 
object  lessons  to  be  found  in  history;  and  the 
actors  were  worthy  of  the  theater,  the  auditory, 
and  the  play. 

A  mighty  tragedy  was  drawing  to  a  close.  The 
breathless  world  was  the  audience.  It  was  a 
bright,  balmy  April  Sunday  in  a  quiet  Virginia 
landscape,  with  two  veteran  armies  confronting 
each  other;  one  game  to  the  death,  completely 
in  the  grasp  of  the  other.  The  future  was  at 
stake.  What  might  ensue?  What  might  not 
ensue?  Would  the  strife  end  then  and  there? 
Would  it  die  in  a  death-grapple,  only  to  reappear 
in  that  chronic  form  of  a  vanquished  but  indomi- 


156     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

table  people,  writhing  and  struggling,  in  the  grasp 
of  an  insatiate  but  only  nominal  victor  ? 

The  answer  depended  on  two  men,  —  the  cap- 
tains of  the  contending  forces.  Think  what  then 
might  have  resulted  had  these  two  men  been  other 
than  what  they  were,  —  had  the  one  been  stern 
and  aggressive,  the  other  sullen  and  unyielding. 
Most  fortunately  for  us,  they  were  what  and 
who  they  were,  —  Grant  and  Lee.  Of  the  two,  I 
know  not  to  which  to  award  the  palm.  Instinc- 
tively, unconsciously,  they  vied  not  unsuccess- 
fully each  with  the  other,  in  dignity,  magnanimity, 
simplicity. 


THE  CONQUERED  BANNER 

LIKE  several  other  poems  of  renown,  "The 
Conquered  Banner"  was  written  under 
stress  of  deep  emotion. 

Abram  J.  Ryan  (Father  Ryan)  had  been 
ordained  as  a  Catholic  priest.  Shortly  after  his 
ordination  he  was  made  a  chaplain  in  the  Con- 
federate army. 

When  the  news  came  of  General  Lee's  surrender 
at  Appomattox  he  was  in  his  room  in  Knoxville, 
where  his  regiment  was  quartered. 

He  bowed  his  head  upon  the  table  and  wept 
bitterly. 

He  then  arose  and  looked  about  him  for  a  piece 
of  paper,  but  could  find  nothing  but  a  sheet  of 
brown  paper  wrapped  about  a  pair  of  shoes. 
Spreading  this  out  upon  the  table,  he,  "in  a  spirit 
of  sorrow  and  desolation"  as  expressed  in  his  own 
words,  wrote  upon  it  "The  Conquered  Banner." 

The  following  morning  the  regiment  was  ordered 

157 


158     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

away,  and  the  poem  upon  the  table  was  forgotten. 
To  the  author's  surprise  it  appeared  over  his 
name,  in  a  Louisville  paper,  a  few  weeks  later, 
having  been  forwarded  to  the  paper  by  the  lady 
in  whose  house  he  had  stopped  in  Knoxville. 

The  poem  was  widely  copied,  and  was  read  at 
gatherings  throughout  the  South  with  ardor  and 
often  with  tears. 

As  an  expression  of  sorrow  without  bitterness 
it  is  considered  a  fine  example. 


THE   CONQUERED   BANNER 

FURL  that  Banner,  for  'tis  weary ; 
Round  its  staff  'tis  drooping  dreary  ; 
Furl  it,  fold  it  —  it  is  best ; 
For  there's  not  a  man  to  wave  it, 
And  there's  not  a  sword  to  save  it, 
And  there's  not  one  left  to  lave  it 
In  the  blood  which  heroes  gave  it  ; 
And  its  foes  now  scorn  and  brave  it ; 
Furl  it,  hide  it  —  let  it  rest ! 

Take  that  Banner  down !    'tis  tattered ; 
Broken  is  its  staff  and  shattered ; 
And  the  valiant  hosts  are  scattered, 

Over  whom  it  floated  high. 
Oh,  'tis  hard  for  us  to  fold  it, 
Hard  to  think  there's  none  to  hold  it, 
Hard  that  those  who  once  unrolled  it 

Now  must  furl  it  with  a  sigh ! 

Furl  that  Banner  —  furl  it  sadly : 
Once  ten  thousands  hailed  it  gladly, 
And  ten  thousands  wildly,  madly, 
Swore  it  should  forever  wave  - 
159 


160     HOW  THE   FLAG  BECAME  OLD   GLORY 

Swore  that  foeman's  sword  could  never 
Hearts  like  theirs  entwined  dissever, 
And  that  flag  should  float  forever 
O'er  their  freedom  or  their  grave ! 

Furl  it !  for  the  hands  that  grasped  it, 
And  the  hearts  that  fondly  clasped  it, 

Cold  and  dead  are  lying  low ; 
And  the  Banner  —  it  is  trailing, 
While  around  it  sounds  the  wailing 

Of  its  people  in  their  woe. 

For,  though  conquered,  they  adore  it  - 
Love  the  cold,  dead  hands  that  bore  it ! 

Weep  for  those  who  fell  before  it ! 
Pardon  those  who  trailed  and  tore  it ! 
But,  oh,  wildly  they  deplore  it, 

Now  who  furl  and  fold  it  so ! 

Furl  that  Banner !  True,  'tis  gory, 
Yet,  'tis  wreathed  around  with  glory, 
And  'twill  live  in  song  and  story 

Though  its  folds  are  in  the  dust ! 
For  its  fame  on  brightest  pages, 
Penned  by  poets  and  by  sages, 
Shall  go  sounding  down  the  ages  - 

Furl  its  folds  though  now  we  must. 


THE   CONQUERED  BANNER  161 

Furl  that  Banner,  softly,  slowly ; 
Treat  it  gently  —  it  is  holy, 

For  it  droops  above  the  dead ; 
Touch  it  not  —  unfold  it  never ; 
Let  it  droop  there,  furled  forever,  - 

For  its  people's  hopes  are  fled. 

ABRAM  JOSEPH  RYAN. 


ii 


DEATH   OF  GRANT 

AS  one  by  one  withdraw  the  lofty  actors 
From  that  great  play  on  history's  stage  eternal, 
That  lurid,  partial  act  of  war  and  peace  —  of  old  and 

new  contending, 
Fought  out  through  wrath,  fears,  dark  dismays,  and 

many  a  long  suspense ; 
All  past  —  and  since,  in  countless  graves  receding, 

mellowing 
Victor   and    vanquished  —  Lincoln's   and    Lee's  - 

now  thou  with  them, 

Man  of  the  mighty  day  —  and  equal  to  the  day ! 
Thou  from  the  prairies  ?  —  and  tangled  and  many 

veined  and  hard  has  been  thy  part, 
To  admiration  has  it  been  enacted  ! 

WALT  WHITMAN. 

The  humblest  soldier  who  carried  a  musket  is 
entitled  to  as  much  credit  for  the  results  of  the  war 
as  those  who  were  in  command. 

U.  S.  GRANT. 


162 


U.  S.  GRANT. 


ROBERT   E.   LEE 

A  GALLANT  foeman  in  the  fight, 
A  brother  when  the  fight  was  o'er, 
The  hand  that  led  the  host  with  might 
The  blessed  torch  of  learning  bore. 

No  shriek  of  shells  nor  roll  of  drums, 
No  challenge  fierce,  resounding  far, 

When  reconciling  wisdom  comes 
To  heal  the  cruel  wounds  of  war. 

Thought  may  the  minds  of  men  divide, 
Love  makes  the  heart  of  nations  one, 

And  so,  thy  soldier  grave  beside, 
We  honor  thee,  Virginia's  son. 

JULIA  WARD  HOWE. 


164 


ROBERT  E.  LEE. 


OLD   GLORY   ON   THE   ISLAND 

MEN  who  have  had  grave  differences  and 
looked  at  each  other  coldly  and  passed 
with  unsmiling  faces  have,  when  some  calamity 
threatened,  sprang  shoulder  to  shoulder  and 
spent  their  united  strength  in  defense  of  a  com- 
mon cause. 

Thus  in  the  Spanish- American  spurt  of  war,  - 
serious  enough,  too  serious,  alas,  in  some  aspects ; 
but  great  in  some  of  its  beneficent  results.  In 
that  call,  "To  Arms!"  was  laid  to  rest  —  for- 
ever forgotten  —  the  old  enmity  between  the 
North  and  the  South,  engendered  by  the  Civil 
Strife. 

On  the  island  of  Cuba,  the  trenches  of  the 
United  States  Army  were  five  miles  in  extent  and 
in  shape  of  a  horseshoe.  Above  the  trenches, 
five  curving  miles  of  Stars  and  Stripes  gleamed. 

To  the  United  States  prisoners,  confined  in  the 

166 


EVERY  MAN  UNCOVERED  AND  STOOD  WITH  SILENT  LIPS,  A 

EYES   FIXED   ON   OLD   GLORY. 


168     HOW  THE  FLAG  BECAME   OLD   GLORY 

prison,  within  sight  of  these  flags,  but  under  the 
flag  of  Spain,  the  waving  emblems  before  their 
eyes  brought  daily  hope  and  courage. 

In  full  vision  of  the  men  in  the  trenches 
fluttered  the  flag  of  Spain ;  above  their  heads 
Old  Glory  flew,  —  the  sheltering  Stripes  and 
Stars. 

As  night  came  down,  and  land  and  shimmering 
sea  was  bathed  in  the  white  light  of  the  sub- 
tropics,  the  strains  of  the  "  Star-Spangled  Banner  " 
were  borne  upon  the  air  and  fell  away  softly,  as 
if  coming  from  across  the  water.  Every  man 
uncovered  and  stood  with  silent  lips,  and  eyes 
fixed  upon  Old  Glory  until  the  last  echoing  note 
died  in  the  distance,  then  turned  again  to  duties ; 
but  upon  his  face  was  stamped  the  deeper  under- 
standing of  the  meaning  of  it  all  —  of  Flag,  and 
Home,  and  Country. 

Thus  from  the  shores  of  a  tropic  island,  fighting 
together  for  the  flag  of  the  nation,  both  Blue  and 
Gray  gained  a  new  and  happier  viewpoint;  and 
looking  back  across  the  warm  and  shining  waters 
of  the  Gulf  Stream,  each  knew  that  all  was  good, 
and  said :  — 


OLD   GLORY  ON  THE   ISLAND         169 

"Lo  !  from  the  thunder-strife, 
And  from  the  blown,  white  ashes  of  the  dead, 
We  rise  to  larger  life." 

"There  is  a  peace  amid'st  the  shock  of  arms, 
That  satisfies  the  soul,  though  all  the  air 
Hurtles  with  horror  and  with  rude  alarms." 

"That  clarion  cry,  My  country !  makes  men  one." 


WHEELER'S   BRIGADE  AT   SANTIAGO 


the  lanes  of  the  tropic  sun 
The  column  is  standing  ready, 
Awaiting  the  fateful  command  of  one 

Whose  word  will  ring  out 

To  an  answering  shout 
To  prove  it  alert  and  steady. 
And  a  stirring  chorus  all  of  them  sung 

With  singleness  of  endeavor, 
Though  some  to  "The  Bonny  Blue  Flag"  had  swung 

And  some  to  "The  Union  For  Ever." 

The  order  came  sharp  through  the  desperate  air 

And  the  long  ranks  rose  to  follow, 
Till  their  dancing  banners  shone  more  fair 

Than  the  brightest  ray 

Of  the  Cuban  day 
On  the  hill  and  jungled  hollow  ; 
And  to  "Maryland"  some  in  the  days  gone  by 

Had  fought  through  the  combat's  rumble 
And  some  for  "Freedom's  Battle-Cry" 

Had  seen  the  broad  earth  crumble. 
170 


WHEELER'S  BRIGADE  AT  SANTIAGO     171 

Full  many  a  widow  weeps  in  the  night 

Who  had  been  a  man's  wife  in  the  morning ; 
For  the  banners  we  loved  we  bore  to  the  height 

Where  the  enemy  stood 

As  a  hero  should 
His  valor  his  country  adorning ; 
But  drops  of  pride  with  your  tears  of  grief, 

Ye  American  women,  mix  ye ! 
For  the  North  and  South,  with  a  Southern  chief, 

Kept  time  to  the  tune  of  "  Dixie." 

WALLACE  RICE. 


SOLDIERS 

SO  many,  many  soldiers 
At  reveille  fared  forth  ; 
Such  ready,  willing  soldiers, 
From  sunny  South  and  North. 

So  many  gallant  soldiers 

At  noon  to  face  the  fight ; 
So  many  weary  wounded 

Home-dreaming  in  the  night. 

So  many  quick  to  answer 

To  drum  and  bugle  sound ; 
So  many  war-scarred  sleepers 

On  death's  white-tented  ground. 

O  soldiers,  silent  soldiers, 

Calm-sleeping  in  the  sun, 
Beneath  one  happy  flag  again, 

God  rest  you,  every  one. 

Of  every  human  difference 

Great  Time,  the  high  priest,  shrives ; 
While  Southern  winds  are  telling 

The  fragrance  of  brave  lives. 
172 


SOLDIERS  173 

Beneath  the  Southern  willows, 

In  slumber  folded  deep, 
O  soldiers,  brothers,  every  one, 

God's  peace  attend  your  sleep. 

WILL  ALLEN  DROMGOLOE. 


Our  battle-fields,  safe  in  the  keeping, 

Of  Nature's  kind,  fostering  care, 
Are  blooming,  —  our  heroes  are  sleeping,  - 

And  peace  broods  perennial  there. 
All  over  our  land  rings  the  story 

Of  loyalty,  fervent  and  true ; 
"One  flag,  and  that  flag  is  Old  Glory," 

Alike  for  the  Gray  and  the  Blue. 

JOHN  HOWARD  JEWETT. 


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